A Better Man
by Valandar
Summary: Vernon changed in the beginning to be a better man, thanks to a wish. How will this affect Harry, and the entire Wizarding World? Now complete! Please R&R. AU, HPGW, RWHG, RLNT
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Of the many reactions to the death of Vernon Dursley, Harry Potter's reaction was expected only by the rare few who understood him.

Petunia Dursley wailed and moaned as if the world had ended. Dudley Dursley stared wide-eyed all around, only occasionally stammering anything to those who asked about him. Aunt Marge 'tut-tutted', and laid the blame for the man's death on 'undesireable elements' in society.

But Harry Potter, nephew to the man, could only find in himself indifference. And relief. For Vernon Dursley, his uncle and for many long years the only male role model he had, was one of the greatest sources of fear, resentment, and abuse in his life.

The funeral was held on a blustering March day, in a cemetary not far from Little Whinging. Of course, it was hidden from view, as such a macabre place would not be good for everyone to see as they passed in and out, going on with their industrious little lives.A large number of people from the neighborhood showed up, just to say they were there and to 'show their support' to the widowed Petunia and her precious Duddykins. Most beleived that he had died in an attempted mugging while on a cigarette break at work.

The truth was he had been slain by a rogue Death Eater. A dark wizard. Less than two months before, the very same Harry potter mentioned above had destroyed the last horcrux which anchored the darkest wizard in history to life, and the Second Wizarding War was all over except the cleanup.

For you see, Harry Potter was a wizard, too. He was a legend, at first 'The Boy Who Lived', and then later 'The Chosen One'. He had defeated Voldemort the Dark Lord not once, but twice - the first time as an infant, this second and more recent time at the age of seventeen. With Voldemort dead, the dark wizards who followed him had scattered to the four winds. Some tried to go back to lives they had left, while others clung to the torture and depravity that had been part of their lives for so long. It was one of the latter that had killed Vernon Dursley for the crime of harboring Harry Potter since the death of his birth parents.

If the Death Eater had known in what manner the 'esteemed' Mr Dursley had sheltered Harry Potter, he likely would not have killed the man, but instead cheered him and rewarded him. For Vernon -hated- Harry, and everything that he represented, specifically the Wizarding World. He abused, starved, and virtually tortured Harry in an attempt to 'squash' the magic out of him. But instead, the magic awoke, and brought the Boy Who Lived to one of the two places he would consider home in his heart - Hogwart's School for Wizardry and Witchcraft.

Harry watched as the various 'mourners' said their platitudes to his Aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley. He also noticed Petunia's eyes drying remarkably swift after the last one left, and only he, and the two Dursleys, remained. Steeling himself, he walked over to her.

As she opened her mouth, probably to hiss at him, blame him for his uncle's death, or who knows what, he silenced both her and his cousin with a wave of his wand. "Dont start. Either of you. I just want to tell you this is the last you will ever see of me. And don't scowl at me. You have what you wanted - he had a rather large life insurance policy, which will support you and allow you to coddle Duddykins for many years to come.

"I just came over here to tell you that the years and months of my life spent in your house were torture. You would bray about 'supporting me', but you never spent a dime you didn't have to. I got the drippings from the table, and the clothes that would otherwise have been thrown out. You kept me in a cupboard... A CUPBOARD! For nearly ten years. You would starve me, beat me, and spit on me. And when I started going to school, when the bruises would show, you let Dudders here beat me, and just blame it on roughousing.

"I despise you, Aunt Petunia. And I pity you, Dudley. And Vernon... wherever he is... I can only wish he had been a better man. That is something I pray with all my heart." With that, Harry Potter turned on his heel, and left the Muggle world forever.

zzzzzzz

The spirit of Vernon Dursley appeared to be a much younger and fitter man than he had been on his death. In fact, he took the form he had when he had been most proud of himself - at the age of twenty, and fresh from the rugby team at college. However, that brought him nopride, as he beheld the scene in front of him.

You see, the scene was Hell.

Being a bit of a literal sort, the Hell that he saw was a classical one - mountains of sulphur and brimstone pits, torturing the damned in an infinite variety of ways. He, himself, had not yet been consigned to these pits, but had been allowed to wait until his own funeral had completed.

One of the aspects of being dead that added to the true horror of Hell was knowledge. The damned finally understood the evil they had caused, the pain, and the torment. And for many that in and of itself was enough. For Vernon, he may not have been in the pits, but looking at Harry and knowing what he had done to the noble young man was torment enough.

"Well, seems you're not even a success at being evil," chortled one imp guarding him. "Couldn't even break the spirit of a little boy, could you!"

"Silence," snorted a demon behind Vernon. "Let us see what the boy will say to his only remaining blood relatives."

As they listened, the deceased man's soul winced with every accusing word. He quailed, for every single word was true. He despaired, knowing the harm he had done could not be repaid in a lifetime.

However, the moment Harry uttered his final wish, a shockwave seemed to pass through Vernon, the imp, and the demon. The infernals' faces paled, and Vernon merely looked around in confusion. "Wha... what was that?" he stammered.

The demon fixed the shade with a glare. "That, mortal... is your chance at redemption. We are summoned before the Grey."

zzzzzzz

The Grey was a vast, grey curtain in the deepest pit of hell. Flanked by twin monstrosities that Vernon could not look directly at for fear of losing his sanity, it shimmered and waved in a nonexistant wind. The imp had fled upon learning of their destination, so Vernon stood beside his demon guide, staring intothe misty expanse of the Grey. "What... what do I do?" he asked.

The demon snorted. "You walk through. Anything you need to know will be known to you then."

Vernon swallowed hard. He had never been a brave man, just a blustering one. The unknown terrified him, but the known, in this case, terrified him even more. He took a deep breath...

... and stepped through.

zzzzzzzz

Very soon, the song ended, and Vernon Dursley looked at his new bride, Petunia. Not gorgeous in the least, but not unattractive, she was precisely the sort of wife he wished for - smart enough for long conversations, yet not too smart. Pleasant to be around, but with a sense of propriety. And from a respectable family. Well... nearly respectable.

One of the other couples on that floor were studiously avoided by some present. Though the woman was incredibly beautiful, with fiery red hair and gren eyes, and the man was a veritable Greek demigod with artfully messy black hair and hazel eyes, many of those present seemed to almost sense something wrong about them.Arching an eye, he noted how inappropriately close they were, despite not being married yet. And in a way, he felt ever so slightly jealous at that closeness. The young man and woman were Lily Evans, his new sister-in-law, and her fiance James Potter. And they were witch and wizard.

Scowling slightly as he led his wife off the dance floor, he considered what he knew of wizards and witches, which wasn't much. He knew that witches were burned at the stake in the Middle Ages, and that both performed acts against the nature of reality with impunity. Brooms were not meant to fly, men should not become animals, and the unseen should remain just that, in his opinion.

His gaze lingered briefly upon the two, and he noted their expressions. They were almost staring at each other with an intensity that was almost uncomfortable to bear, focused only on each other and barely hiding a passion that could move mountains. Perhaps literally, he thought uncomfortably. 'And to think,' he wondered, 'that Petunia is so wonderfully normal, and yet her sister is...'

This caused him to pause for a moment. She was his wife's sister. She was part of his family, now, and not just her own. The Evans and the Dursleys were, in a sense, now a single clan.

She was family.

Family.

Perhaps... perhaps he should know more before jumping to conclusion. Perhaos he should know the truth about the younger couple before assuming the worst. After all, the best decision is an informed decision.

And after coming to that conclusion, he dragged his wife over to the two, introduced himself, and changed the very direction of his life. 


	2. Chapter 2: Setting the Stage

The day Harry Potter entered the world was one of the happiest days in the combined Dursley - Potter clan. He had the brilliant green eyes of his mother, and a tiny fringe of black hair that would likely one day be as messy as his father's unruly shock. He gurgled happily up at the awed family and friends, and instantly captured the hearts of those who saw him.

Vernon Dursley simply stared at his new nephew. His wife, Petunia, sister to Harry's mother Lily, had handed him their own infant son, Dudley, and crowded around the bed where Lily lay holding the ebullient littly Harry, and cooed at him like any good aunt. Vernon had taken a big risk, socially, by getting close to his family by marriage, and felt it had paid off. Maybe not in pounds, or in those Galleon coins the Wizarding World used, but most definitely in his own emotional well-being and on his conscience.

"Vernon, love, bring Duddykins over to meet his cousin!" called out Petunia. The slightly pudgy man was startled out of his reverie, and strode purposefully over, grinning at the thought of his own son and his nephew becoming good friends. That's when it hit him.

His nephew.

Growing up, the man had known two great male role models in his life. The first, of course, was his blustering father, always complaining about 'undesireable elements', and never making it clear what he was speaking about. His father was also an alcoholic, and rather... strict. Far more strict than Vernon cared to admit to anyone, in fact.

However, the second role model he had was his Uncle Matthias. Uncle Matthias was an Art History teacher at the local Uni, and was big and burly like his brother, but was far more joyful in demeanor, and quick with a kind word and a helping hand to his beloved nephew. He preached tolerance and harmony, and tried to show his nephew the wonder in the world around him. His father argued with Matthias constantly, but of course never in earshot of the children. But some time when Vernon was about thirteen or fourteen, Uncle Matthias simply stopped coming around. This hurt Vernon more than he ever cared to admit, and he always blamed his father for it. Whenever the subject of Uncle Matthias came up, his father would backhand him, and curse at him, demanding that the name never be spoken in his house again.

Was it possible... was his Uncle Matthias part of the Wizarding World? Or was it a more mundane reason that ended his uncle's frequent visits? Whatever the case, Vernon decided to try to find that man again, even if it was just to find a tombstone.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" cajoled Petunia, breaking him out of his reverie. "Let your son meet his cousin!" And as he lowered Dudley into the bed next to little Harry, he was delighted to see both infants smile at each other.

zzzzzzz

Mending the rift between Petunia and Lily had taken much of Vernon's patience and intestinal fortitude. Oh, Lily was more than willing to forgive her older sister for the words and actions that had hurt her and come between them, but Petunia simply refused to even try. In the end, it was the birth of Dudley that had finally brought them together.

In part, it was the fact that the two of them were stuck in a muggle elevator that had gone out of order (through a little 'help' from James Potter) when Petunia went though labor, leaving Lily the only one present and able to help her. But mostly it was the insistance that Dudley should know ALL of his family, from the trio of Lily, James, and Vernon himself.

By the time Harry was born, Vernon had learned much about the Wizarding World. He learned that his new extended family were considered among the bravest and noblest of their world, and that made him proud. He had also been welcomed with open arms into the tight friendship of James, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew that was informally known as 'The Marauders'. Though he could not join them in their escapades, and in fact found many of them a bit childish, he would on occasion distract Petunia and Lily, as well as any girlfriend Sirius may have had at the moment, so that the foursome could pull off their latest gag. Remus became especially close to Vernon, as the two were more serious minded than the other three.

It was a common occurrance to find Remus and Vernon sitting in front of the fireplace at #4 privet Drive. The electric fireplace in the house had been replaced with a proper wooden fireplace and hooked up to the Floo Network for both communication and travel. The two would stare at the fire for hours, and compare philosophies, and match events in the Wizarding World with their echoes in the Muggle World and vice versa. On rare occasions, Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School for Wizardry and Witchcraft, would join them. These meetings impressed Vernon with a tremendous respect for the aged wizard, and he felt honored by his inclusion among those rare muggles allowed to know the truth of the Wizarding World every time one of their discussions drew to a close.

In keeping with the oath Vernon swore when his nephew was born, Vernon hired two private investigators (one muggle, one wizarding) to try to find his lost uncle Matthias. It was with a heavy heart he had learned that his uncle had died childless not three years after his visits had ended. He was, in fact, purely muggle, and whatever argument had caused the rift between his father and uncle had followed both of them to their graves.

This thought further troubled Vernon. The only family he had left besides his wife, son, and the Potters was his sister, Marge. Looking from his now enlightened vantage point, he saw in Marge everything he disliked about his own father. She was needlessly cruel in her actions and words, and arrogant beyond belief. His parents were both dead, his mother from tuberculosis and his father, soon after, from alcohol poisoning after a massive drinking binge. And his son and nephew would never know any of their grandparents - both the Evans and the Potters had been slain before he met Petunia, killed by an evil wizard whose name only Lily, James, Remus, Sirius, and Dumbledore dared say - Voldemort.

As the months passed, Vernon grew to love little Harry nearly as much as his own son, Dudley. The two boys were virtually inseperable, with the one year older Dudley doing what he could to protect his tiny wisp of a cousin, and Harry seemed to love the attention, and his cousin. And that, in fact, was what sparked little Harry's first use of accidental magic.

zzzzzzz

"Ma, wan fu!" yowled Dudley from his playpen. Six month old Harry was laying next to his year and a half old cousin, sucking hungrily from a bottle of warm formula. Petunia had been summoned out of the room by a firecall from Remus, asking when Vernon would be back from work, and Lily was in the kitchen of #4 Privet Drive, making lunch for them all. So, neither heard the little boys calls.

Upset, little Dudley dropped to his bottom on the padding of the playpen, and started to cry. This confused Harry, who stopped sucking on his bottle. Right as Petunia entered, and before her amazed eyes, Harry held out his empty hand... which suddenly contained a duplicate of the bottle in his other hand. He then gurgled happily, and Dudley turned. Seeing the second bottle, Dudley paused, and slowly took it. When he stuffed the nipple of the bottle in his mouth and started drinking, Harry gurgled more, smiled, and clapped, knocking the nipple off his own bottle, and spraying milk everywhere.

Once the milk was cleaned up, and the two boys /properly/ fed, Petunia simply hugged Lily close. "He's... he's..."

Smiling, the younger of the two women returned the hug. "Yes, I know, Pet. He's magical."

Sniffing back tears, Petunia leaned back and looked at her. "No, Lils. He's so giving. No baby in the WORLD would give up a bottle like that. He's... he's so much like you, it almost hurts."

If there had been any resentment left in either one, the tidal wave of love and joy that welled up in each of them would have swept it away. They were sisters, stronger together than apart, and nothing could ever break that bond again. 


	3. Chapter 3: October 31, 1981

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this except maybe a tiny smidgen of the 'What if?' that spawned this AU. And many thanks go to the wonderful (and moderately attractive) JKR for ot only creating this wonderful world, but endorsing fanfiction, and saying we could play in her sandbox.

A/N:

Thanks for the readings! And to those that have reviewed:

Magic Crystal Rose: Thank you! I find AU's to often be more interesting than continuations. For one, they will ALWAYS be AU's, and any new forthcoming book won't render the story "invalid". And I'm glad you find it intriguing!

Rheya Ramsey: Yes, there will be more, as I find time to write it. And while the Dursleys will, in this story at least, be the family Harry needed, that will not be a panacea for all his ills. And I'll get right on that little mistake! Grumble, I should remember NEVER to proofread at four AM...

By the way, thanks to a wonderful little page I found online, I have determined that October 31, 1981 was just barely past the New Moon. That page, if you are interested (it would be an interesting resource for any stories that involve Remus) is http Colon Slash Slash aa.usno.navy.mil/data/docs/MoonPhase.html

Chapter 3: October 31, 1981

Number Four Privet Drive appeared, on the outside, to be just another cookie-cutter house in a cookie cutter neighborhood. The lawn was meticulously cut, the shutters immaculately painted, and the neighbors viewed the inhabitants, one Vernon and Petunia Dursley and their baby boy Dudley, as shining examples of normality and social responsibility. Some would occasionally tut-tut at the moderately frequent public displays of affection they would manifest, such as holding hands as Petunia would walk him to the car in the mornings as he would leave for work, or the slightly more than chaste kiss they would share when she would bring him fruit juice as he spent his Saturdays mowing the lawn. However, even that was recognized as a sign of respect and love between them.

In fact, Number Four Privet Drive was a house filled with love, far more than was apparant from the outside. And it was because of that love that Albus Dumbledore, with a heavy heart, was calling upon them this night.

"Albus, are you sure of this? They are muggles, after all," said the middle-aged witch who stood beside him. Her hair had once been in a bun, but several locks of iron-grey hair had worked their way out of their confinement, to frame a face stained with tears and etched with worry and greif. She wore an elegant black gown, and she absent-mindedly wiped the tiny wire-rimmed glasses in her hands with a lace handkercheif over, and over.

"Minerva, I assure you,there can be no better place for Harry, physically or mentally. Vernon and Petunia care deeply for the boy, and Petunia's blood ties will maintain his mother's protection." Breathing deeply, he sighed, and waited.

Moments later, a shadow passed in front of the moon, and a huge form drifted down to meet them. It was a shaggy-haired, bushy-bearded man of immense size, riding a flying motorcycle he nearly dwarfed with his massive frame. In one arm, he gently cradled a bundle of soft blue cloth, and with his other hand, once he had shut the machine off, he wiped futilely at rapidy dropping tears. "'Ere... 'ere 'e is, perfessor. Jus'...jus' like y' tol' me to. I brought 'im to ya."

Minerva McGonagal turned to the large man. "And what of... what of Sirius, Hagrid?"

"He was there, perfessor. He jus' handed me Harry, his eyes jus' so lost I couldn' bear t' look 'im in th' eye. He gave me th' bike t' get here." Hagred bent over, and slowly, gently handed his sleeping burden to Professor Dumbledore. As he did, one corner of the blue blanket fel away, to show the baby's face. There, above one tiny little eyebrow, an angry red mark stood out, blazing away like an ember. "That there mark were still bleedin' when Sirius handed 'im t' me. But by th' time I 'ad 'im all wrapped up an' such, it'd stopped. Izzat... izzat where..."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Yes, dear Hagrid. That is where Voldemort's curse rebounded from Harry. That horrid scar will mark him for the rest of his life as the only boy to live when struck by the Killing Curse."

By this time, the shadows and hushed conversation outside had attracted the attention of someone from inside the house. A light went onnear the front door, which opened slowly. Petunia Dursley, in her housecoat and slippers, stepped up to the unusual looking trio. "Albus? Albus, what's going on?" She looked at theother two (slightly apprehensively in the case of Hagrid), and held out her hand. "Good evening, I'm Petunia Dursley, Lily's sister. And... and is that little Harry, Albus?"

"This is Professor Minerva McGonagal and Rubeus Hagrid, both of Hogwarts. And yes, this is Harry. A great tragedy and a great victory have occurred this night, may we come in? We must speak to you and Vernon on a matter of greatest importance." Dumbledore pleaded with his eyes. "Truly, a matter of life or death."

zzzzzzz

Vernon Dursley could not believe his ears. His sister-in-law and her husband - dead? His nephew Harry, the only survivor of a spell that kills ANYONE it hits? And what's more, ridding the world of the man who had killed his own grandparents, and so many more innocent men and women? It just didn't seem possible.

They were seated in the den, in front of the fire (which had been put out for privacy's sake). Vernon looked at the empty ashes, as if trying to see some way to make the nightmare go away, and another thought struck him. "What about Sirius? Peter? Remus? Are they alright?"

Another sigh escaped Dumbledore's lips, and McGonegal bit back a sob. "Remus and Peter are fine, for now. But about Sirius... Vernon, do you remember when I explained about the Fidelius Charm?" The muggle man nodded, and the headmaster continued. "Sirius... Sirius was their Secret-Keeper. The only way Voldemort could have found them would be if Sirius had told him."

Vernon noted out of the corner of his eye that both McGonegal and Hagrid had jumped nervously at Dumbledore's use of the wizard's self-appropriated name. He just couldn't believe it. Sirius was a brother to James, and James had more than once been Sirius' lifeline to hope. "That just cannot be!" he declared.

"I'm afraid that is the only answer," said McGonagal, as Petunia entered the room from the kitchen with a tray carrying a pot of tea, and several cups. "Only the Secret-Keeper could have ever revealed their location, and since Sirius was their Secret-Keeper, only he could have betrayed them to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."

Petunia nearly dropped the tray as she set it on the low table in front of the sofa."But... but he /wasn't/ their secret-keeper!" she exclaimed. "Lily told me a week ago, the day before they went into hiding, that they were switching to Peter as their Secret Keeper! She said Sirius had convinced them he was too obvious a choice!"

Everyone sat in stunned silence at this revelation, until Hagrid suddenly bolted to his feet, hunching over at the last second to avoid plunging his head through the ceiling. "Sweet MERLIN, Perfessor Dumbledore! When 'e left, Sirius tol' me he was goin' t' find Peter! 'E knew Peter was their Secret-Keeper, an' he mus' be headed there t' do somethin' awful to 'im!"

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock. "Minerva, please stay here and inform the Dursleys of Lily's sacrifice, and its implications. Hagrid, take my hand, we are apparating immediately!" He reached out, and the half-giant took his much smaller hand. With a loud CRACK, the two were gone.

In the absolute silence that remained, Minerva McGonagal looked at the inhabitants of the room. Vernon Dursley was still staring into the ashes of the fireplace, his eyes unfocused and his mouth opening and closing. Petunia, meanwhile, had picked up little Harry from the bascinet he had been placed in,and simply held him to her, eyes shining. Taking a deep breath, she gently shook Vernon on the shoulder. "I am sorry for the burden we have placed upon you - the knowledge of your loss, and Harrys, and bringing him here, to you. I think any further explainations can wait, despite what Albus has said, for the time being."

Vernon slowly closed his mouth, and his eyes refocused on her as she spoke. He nodded dumbly, and stepped over to the fireplace. Placing kindling in it, he lighted the kindling, and reached for the urn of Floo Powder. "Professor McGonagal, if you please... I would like to speak with Remus," he said, handing it to her. After all, no matter how much they would wish to, a muggle cannot begin a firecall on his own, no matter how much Floo Powder he uses.

zzzzzzz

It was very early morning, and the street was nearly deserted. It was a quiet street, with several houses down each side. From around a corner, a short, heavyset man in robes came racing, huffing and puffing with the exertion. "No, Sirius, don't!" he cried.

As the noise caused lights to turn on in various houses, a much taller, thinner man, also in robes, stormed around the corner, following him. "WORMTAIL!" he howled. "You TRAITOR!"

Unable to run any farther, the shorter man, the one called Wormtail, turned to face his pursuer, and dropped to his knees. "Please, Sirius, don't!" he begged.

Sirius Black was beyond reason. The two closest friends he had in the world were dead, and his beloved godson was an orphan. The next closest friend he had had been almost shunned by them when they thought he was the traitor, and that friendship was likely beyond repair. And his next closest friend... knelt in front of him. A traitor. A filthy traitor, begging for mercy. "You... you DARE..."

He was interrupted, however, as a strange light entered the smaller man's eyes. He noticed faces at windows, and the occasional peek through a half-opened door. Rising to his feet, he put his hands behind his back, one of them drawing a long knife, while the other drew his wand. "HOW COULD YOU BETRAY THEM, SIRIUS? HOW COULD YOU KILL THEM?" he declared, almost melodramatically.

This stunned Sirius for a moment, and a moment was all Wormtail, the man named Peter Pettigrew, needed. With a smooth motion, he sliced off his right forefinger, even as he began a quick incant that would detonate the natural gas line he suspected lay beneath his feet.

"STUPIFY!" came a voice from behind him, interrupting the incant, and preventing both the spell from succeeding, and his animagus transformation. For Peter Pettigrew had that rare and unusual ability to assume an animal form - in his case, appropriately enough, a rat. But one may not shift shapes when one is unconscious.

Striding up behind the fallen traitor was none other than Albus Dumbledore, with Rubeus Hagrid walking beside. He stopped an arm's length away from Sirius, and looked at him, eyes shining. "I am so sorry, my dear boy. But we had to make sure you did nothing rash to the Potter's Secret-Keeper before the Wizengamot could properly try him."

Still confused from Pettigrew's outburst moments before, Sirius Black just stood, slack-jawed. "You... you knew? You knew they switched?"

"No. Not until an hour ago, when Petunia Dursley informed me. It seems her sister had told her of this the day before they went to Godric's Hollow." Dumbledore sighedonce more this night, this time a sigh of relief. "And based upon what I just saw, I may have just prevented both a catastrophe, and a horrific miscairrage of justice."

"Professor... Albus... James and Lily... Harry..." Sirius stammered. Gone was the arrogant, cocky boy from his days as a Marauder. In his place stood a confused and hurting man.

"I know, Sirius, I know. Now, come, we will take you to Harry, if you want. He is with Vernon, Petunia, and Minerva." Holding out his hand, he led the young man away, even as Hagrid stood guard over the fallen Pettigrew. And as the tiny sliver of the moon sliced its way from a cloud, the most horrific night in the history of the friends known as the marauders finally drew to a close. 


	4. Chapter 4: At the Age of Nine

A/N: Yep, here's another chapter. I'm going to be glossing over the Hogwarts years at first - while many circumstances may be different (like his meeting the Weasleys, and the reasons for visiting the Burrow summer after first year), most of the events will remain the same. Once it reaches a point where I think things would seriously start to diverge, that's where I'll start going more in-depth.

As to my reviewers:

Ladyspice: Thank you, I'm trying to be different. I realizesome things are going to change, while others won't, but i'll try to be as true to the (altered) characters as I can.

DragonBard: As you can see, while it helps in many ways, it doesn't cure everything...

Now, on with the story! Oh, and insert standard disclaimer here

At the Age of Nine

Harry Potter, nine year old resident of #4 Privet Drive, limped painfully back home on a sunny Saturday. Hie sported several bruises, including a particularly spectacular black eye, and his ribs ached and creaked with every step. A thin trickle of blood seeped out from the corner of his mouth, and one lens of his round-rimmed glasses was cracked. In all, he felt, this was not a good day.

His cousin Dudley was the first member of his family to spot him. He was sitting outside, greasing the chain of hs bicycle, and stood up the moment he saw Harry. "What the heck happened to you?" he demanded. "Was it that bloody Piers Polkiss again?"

"I... I better go inside," muttered Harry, shaking off his cousin's concern. "Something... well, something odd happend."

The older boy nodded. Though only ten years old, he was a full head taller and half again heavier than the younger boy, He hunched over slightly, and put his cousin's arm over his shoulder, and helped him get inside the front door.

Uncle Vernon was sitting in the den, reading a book loaned to him by a friend, when he heard the door open. He glanced over, and immediately dropped the book, and rushed to help his nephew inside. "Happened again, did it?" he asked.

As Harry nodded, Dudly snarled. "It was Piers again, I bet."

"Uncle... Uncle Vernon... something else happened..." started Harry.

"Not a word right now," interrupted the burly adult. "You need to get lying down right this instant, you could be badly hurt." He picked the boy up as if he weighed no more than a feather, and started upstairs. "I'll send word to your Uncle Richard, and he'll help us get you sorted right out."

As they turned into the boys' bedroom, Harry looked up at his uncle. His lower lip quivered a bit, and he asked, "Uncle Vernon... are you my real uncle?"

Vernon Dursley paused, then stepped in and carefully lowered Harry to his bed. "Of course I am, he said after a moment. "Your mother was Petunia's sister."

"And Uncle Simon? And Uncle Richard? Are they really my uncles?"

Crouching down next to his nephew, the man took off the boy's glasses and set them on the nightstand. He then looked him in the eye, and asked, "Does it really matter, Harry? They love you, and you love them."

"But... they're not really family?" insisted Harry.

"Harry... do you know what family is?" Vernon asked softly. The boy nodded his head... then paused, and shook a silent 'no'. "Family are the people who love you no matter what. They're the people who care for you, and support you in whatever you choose to do, even if they don't agree. Family is... family. And your family is Dudley, your Aunt Petunia, your uncles Simon and Richard, and myself. We love you, and even if Simon and Richard aren't related by blood, they're still a part of that."

A faint smile crept into the face of the injured boy. "Okay," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Good. Now, you just lie there and rest," said Vernon, "while I go call Uncle Richard, okay?"

"Okay."

zzzzzzz

"He really did a number on you, Cub," said the man that Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley knew as Uncle Richard. He wasn't very old, maybe thirty at the most, but already had begun to grow in some grey hairs. He was a solid, dependable man, with soft lines in his face that bespoke of more years than he had actually seen, He was also the only person to call Harry "Cub".

"Wasn't just him," protested the boy. By the time Uncle Richard had arrived, his Aunt Petunia had returned from visiting the neighbor, Mrs. Figg, and stood in the doorway holding Dudley, a worried expression on her drawn face. She was quite thin, but no one would ever be so uncharitable as to suggest she was 'bony'. Uncle Vernon knelt on one knee beside Harry's bed, while Uncle Richard stood on the other.

"It wasn't?" asked Vernon. "Now, you don''t have to tell me who just yet, boy, just how many." The word 'boy', when spoken by some people, held connotations of superiority and smugness. But when Uncle Vernon said it, it was the same as being called 'Cub' by Uncle Richard, or 'Pup' by Uncle Simon. It was an affectionate term.

"F-four of them. Four others and Piers. And... and something happened," added Harry. "Something weird."

The two men glanced at each other, and a look was passed. Harry saw it, and misinterpreted it. "Are... are you mad at me? Mad because I ran, and didn't fight back?"

This shocked those present. "Of course not, Harry," blustered Vernon. "A good man only fights when it's needed. There was no one there for you to try to protect except yourself, so running away was a GOOD thing."

Uncle Richard glanced back at Petunia and nodded. Understanding, she looked down at Dudley. "Come on, Duddykins, let's go down to the kitchen and start fixing supper, and let Uncle Richard and your father tend to Harry." Despite his protests of concern for his cousin, the tempting prospect of food was too much, so Dudley allowed himself to be led downstairs.

"Harry, look at me. I want you to tell me what happened that was so weird, okay?" At the boy''s questioning glance, Vernon added, "I promise I won't laugh, and I promise I'll believe you."

The boy glanced at uncle Richard, who nodded. He took a deep breath, and with a thick tongue, began to tell his story.

zzzzzzz

The wind rushed past Harry Potter as he ran for what he thought was his life.He knew in the back of his mind that he was in a lot of pain right now, but the adrenaline in his system swept all thoughts away except fight or flight. Outnumbered and outmassed as he was, he chose the second option.

The fight had started earlier that morning because the five larger boys had started taunting Harry about being an orphan with no family. "Of course you are," jeered Piers, "why else is your name different from everyone else in your family, freak?" Harry had started to argue, but it rapidly turned into a brawl Harry could not win.

As he passed the alley beside the school, Harry ducked in to try to catch his breath. All too soon, he heard the voices and running footsteps of his tormenters. Frightened, he searched everywhere he could to try to find somewhere to hide. He closed his eyes, and wished he could escape.

An odd sensation washed over him as he squeezed his eyes tightly. It was like being compressed into a tiny ball, or like the pressure at the bottom of the deep end of a pool. This sensation, however, was far more intense. It lasted about half a second, and a sudden 'CRACK' startled him enough to open his eyes.

Somehow, he was now standing on the roof of the school, two stories up. Carefully, he looked ove the edge, and saw the gang of bullies turn into the alleyway, and look around. Not seeing him, they ran off, presumeably to find his hiding spot.

zzzzzzz

"I waited up there for a while, not sure how long. Then I managed to climb down the drain pipe, and head back home," Harry Finished.

Both of his Uncles looked at him with serious expressions. Richard looked at Vernon, and simply said, "It's time."

Vernon nodded. "You go get Sir... Simon, and I'll start trying to explain it to Harry."

Harry watched his Uncle Richard leave the room, and thought about what his Uncle Vernon had said earlier. Family was the people who loved you and supported you no matter what. After what just happened... would Uncle Richard still love and support him? Would Uncle Simon? Or even Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or his cousin Dudley, for that matter? His lower lip began to quiver a little, and his eyes began to shine with unshed tears.

This was not lost on Vernon Dursley. "Harry, my boy, it's okay. The truth is, we were actually expecting something like this."

Green eyes widened in a pale face. "You were? How? Why?"

This seemed to give the older man pause. After a moment, he spoke, ruffling the boys messy hair affectionately. "You know those books that Uncle Richard brings by? The ones by Tolkein, C.S. Lewis, and others, with thw wizards, and dragons, and the like in them?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," replied harry, a faint smile twitching at the corners of his lip, his tears beginning to dry up.

Vernon let out a sigh, and met the young lad's gaze. "Harry... not everything in those books was fiction. Some of it... a great deal of it... was true. Ah, ah, ah, before you protest, let me ask you. If it wasn't, how would you explain your little trip to the top of the school today?"

Silently shaking his head, Harry said, "I don''t know..."

"You, Harry... You're a wizard, Harry. Your father James was a wizard, and your mother Lily was a witch. No, not like in Wizard of Oz, a witch is just a name for a female wizard."

Harry's eyes opened wide. "And you, Uncle Vernon? Are you a wizard, too? And Dudley? And is Aunt Petunia a witch?"

The older man laughed. "No, no, Harry. I have no more magic in me than a television. I'm all technology and the here and now, what wizarding folkcall a 'muggle'. So are your Aunt Petunia and your cousin Dudley."

Harry looked back at his uncle, crestfallen. A voice from the doorway interrupted his thoughts, "On the other hand, your Uncle Richard and I ARE wizards, Pup!"

Glancing at the doorway, harry's eyes sparkled. "Uncle Simon!" he declared. He may love his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, he may care a very great deal for his Uncle Richard, but none of that compared to the sheer adoration he had for his beloved Uncle Simon. And there, in the doorway were Uncle Richard and Uncle Simon.

Somin was perhaps the same age as Richard, but looked years younger. His black hair was relatively long, but neat, and shining grey eyes danced underneath the fringe. He was tall and lanky, and moved with what Harry could only describe as an easygoing grace.

"First things first," said Uncle Simon, giving him a brief and gentle hug, "let's get you fixed up.Then... then we have something big to tell you."

"Bigger than that I'm a wizard?" asked Harry, astonished.

"Yes, indeed. Much bigger than that. It's about something called... Quidditch." At the utterance of the strange word, uncle Richard slapped Uncle Simon on the back of the head. "HEY, what was that for?"

"You and Quidditch, I swear," muttered an exasperated Richard. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a slender piece of wood, much like a conductor's baton. "Just hold still for a second, Harry, while I check out what's wrong with you." He muttered something under his breath, and to harry's astonishment, a faint glow spread from the baton, bathing him in light. Soon, it faded. "Good, good. Nothing but bumps and bruises,nothing to bother Poppy about. So,harry how do you feel about getting rid of those injuries rather quickly, eh?"

"Of course, I don't like being in pain. But... but how?" Harry asked.

Simon laughed, a bark-like chuckle. "Magic, of course, Harry! Wizard here, remember?" he cajoled, showing his own baton. "A few potions, and a swipe or two of our wands, and you'll be good as new - just like this!" He pointed his wand at Harry's glasses on the nightstand, and clearly said "Reparo!" Before the boy's eyes, the cracked lens sealed itself up, and the battered frames straightened and shone like new.

Vernon laughed softly. "I still don't see why you don't want a new pair of glasses, boy. You've had those for ages."

Clutching them stubbornly and putting them on his face, Harry pouted slightly. "I LIKE these glasses," he complained.

"That's all well and good," said Uncle Richard, "but you have to take them off util we can get rid of that shiner, okay?"

Reluctantly, Harry removed the glasses, and let his uncles take car of him. He would never admit it in a million years, but it felt good to just lay back and be taken care of.

As he downed the last potion, which tasted pretty nasty but not as bad as he thought it would, Uncle Vernon stood. "Well, Harry, like your Uncles said, we have much to talk about. Your Aunt and Cousin should be there, too, so we're going to let you rest a bit. When you're awake, come on down to the den, and we'll have a nice, long discussion."

"But I'm awake now!" protested Harry.

"Not for long," chuckled Richard, even as the boy slowly closed his eyes, and settled into a calm, easy sleep.

zzzzzzz

Something growled in the darkness. It woke Harry up, but didn't frighten him for some reason. A quick glance at the clock told him it was almost eight o'clock in the evening, and whatever it was growled again.

Slightly mortified despite being alone, Harry realized the growling sound was his stomach. It was then he realized that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and his Aunt would probably try to stuff him with food when he went downstairs.

Downstairs... something about that clicked in Harry's growing awareness. Suddenly, he remembered. Uncle Richard and Uncle Simon were here, and were waiting downstairswith Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley! Something about a big story, bigger than being...

A wizard. He was a wizard.

His hunger long forgotten, Harry raced downstairs. The fact that he was limping horribly and in an intense amount of pain earlier slipped his mind as he bounded down the steps.

Apparantly, Uncle Simon was telling another story. "... and so the whole of Slytherin Dorms had to stay bright pink for the rest of the Christmas hols!" he declared.

Uncle Richard, the most observant of them, noticed him before he even poked his head downstairs. "Good, Harry's up. Now we can eat," he said, winking at Harry.

Petunia stood and rushed over to the stairs and engulfed the young boy in a motherly hug. "Oh, I was so WORRIED about you today! That nasty Piers Polkiss and his gang of ruffians are just no good, I tell you. And my word, you probably haven't had a thing to eat all day! Well, come on, some on, it's dinner time!"

Dinner was a relativly quiet and swift affair, as the Big Discussion was to occur afterwards. As soon as they were done, Aunt Petunia began to clear the table, but was interrupted by Uncle Richard. "Let me, Petunia," he said, drawing his wand and waving it in a complex patern. Soon, all the dishes and silverware were dancing their way to the sink, where they washed themselves, while a damp cloth scrubbed its way across the table. He then led her back into the Den, where the others were getting settled.

"Harry," began Uncle Simon, "It's time you learned the truth about your parents, and how they died, and what that means to you."

"Truth?" he said. "You said they were murdered by a gangster, who blew up the house."

"Well, that's mostly true, Harry. You see, it wasn't a gangster that did it. It was a dark wizard, the darkest of the dark, who did it. He was a vile creature known as Lord Voldemort. He controlled a group of dark wizards known as Death Eaters, so I guess you could say that he was, in effect, a gangster." came a voice from outside the room.

"Grampa Albus!" came the twin joyful cries of both Harry and Dudley as they bolted out of their seats to hug the old man who came walking in. He was wearing a plum-colored three piece suit, his long hair braided back but his voluminous beard flowing free. Eyes twinkling like mad, he returned the hugs, and kissed each boy on top of their heads.

"Indeed. Though I must confess, I am not really your grandfather. Please, forgive the deception, but you must hear the rest of the story,' he pleaded with Harry.

"It's okay," said the young boy. "I know you love me, so that makes us family."

The twinkling of Dumbledore's eyes grew to a constant shine. "My word, dear boy, so it does, so it does." He led the two boys back to their seats, then pulled out a wand, and conjured a plush easy chair for himself.

"You're a wizard, too?" asked Dudley.

"Why, yes I am," said Dumbledore.

"And not just any wizard," interrupted Uncle Simon. "This is Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the Wizarding school, Hogwarts. My alma mater, you know. Well, Richard and mine, that is. Or is it 'Richard's and mine'? Never was much good at grammar..."

"Be that as it may," interrupted Dumbledore before Richard could start lecturing his friend on the finer points of the Queen's English, "we have much to discuss tonight, and my pedigree and your linguistic shortcomings are possibly the last subjects to be covered."

Over the next half hour, the adults told Harry and Dudley the truth about James and lily Potter. From their tumultuous courtship and eventual deep and abiding love, to their sacrifice at Godric's Hollow at the hands of Voldemort, they told him everything.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, "your father sacrificed his life to give Lily time to either get away, or perform the charm she had been working on for three years. In the end, she chose the charm, and you continued life and happiness, instead of freedom and fear. She sacrificed herself as the final act of that charm. Then... then, Harry, Voldemort turned his gaze upon you."

As the boys' eyes widened, a hidden signal seemed to pass between the adults with shared glances. Richard took over the story. "Voldemort wasn't one much for leaving survivors. At least, not sane survivors. So, he turned his wand at you, and fired the Killing Curse. To his shock and downfall, the curse somehow rebounded, and struck him down, instead."

"But... but you just said nothing could block the Killing Curse!" protested Dudley, as Harry grew quiet.

"No, we said that nothing /we knew/ could block the Killing Curse. It appears that Lily succeeded in her final act, succeeded beyond her wildest dreams." Dumbledor stood, and walked over to Harry, and knelt down in front of him. "Harry... the final charm she was working on was based on Old Magic, a style of magic long thought lost. It took the love she bore for you, and imbedded it into every fiber of your being, shielding you from harm. She loved you so very, VERY much, Harry, that this shield was enough to block even the unblockable. Her love was stronger than death, Harry."

Unashamed, the young boy let tears begin to flow down his face, though he did not cry aloud. "She... she did?"

"More than anything, Pup. Your father was a VERY close second, though," added Simon.

"Harry... under normal circumstances, the Killing Curse does exactly that. It kills. It tears the life force apart in a single, blinding instant, letting the soul free from the body. Yet, it leaves no mark upon the victim, except perhaps a look of surprise or fear. Yet when the curse struck you... it left a mark." The wizened wizard reached out one hand and gently lifted up Harry's unruly bangs. "Your scar, Harry, is where the curse struck. There, your mother's love fought with thepower of death itself, and won, leaving behind only that tiny, jagged scar."

"What about... what about Sirius and Remus, Grampa Albus?" asked Dudley. "And the traitor?"

Dumbledore rose to his feet. "Peter Pettigrew, the traitor, now lives in Azkhaban. It is the wizarding prison, where none have ever escaped inthe many centuries it has existed. As for Remus and Sirius... that is for them to tell."

Simon grinned, and waved his hand. "Hiya, Pup. I'm... well, I'm Sirius Black, your godfather. And Richard is Remus Lupin, your fuzzyfather."

Richard, or rather Remus, slapped Sirius on the back of the head. "Fuzzyfather? I'll get you for that one later. Harry, you may be mad at us right now for lying to you about who we were, but you have to hear the rest of the story."

Harry stared at him for a moment, his tears from earlier drying. He had just learned so much about who he was, and who other people were and were not. It would take a while to sink in, so he looked at his uncle Vernon in confusion.

"It's okay, boy. You loved Simon and Richard, right?" he asked. At Harry's nod, he continued, "These are the same people. They just have... additional names. And abilities you just didn't know about before. Sirius still calls you Pup, and loves you with all his heart, and Remus still calls you Cub and loves you as well."

The room lay still for many long moments. The soft ticking of the wall clock behind Aunt Petunia filled the air, until the gathered adults thought it was the loudest thing they would ever hear. And still they waited.

Harry slowly stood up from the couch, and walked over to where Sirius and Remus stood next to each other. He looked up at them, meeting their eyes, then surprised them by suddenly wrapping his arms around both of them, crying fiercely. "Uncle Remus... Uncle Sirius..." he choked out, before crying once more.

Sirius bit back tears, and dropped to his knees, as did Remus. They held the boy tightly and protectively, and just held him while he cried himself out. Across the room, Petunia walked to the couch and wrapped her own arms around Dudley, and Vernon moved to sit on the arm of the couch to hold them both.

Eventually, Harry quieted down, and backed away to the couch. He paused briely, then rushed over and grabbed Dumbledore in a fierce hug that surprised him, before joining his blood family on the couch. "O...okay," he said. "I think I'm ready. Shall we, umm, go on?"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Of course, Pup. Well, as I said, I'm Sirius Black, and this is Remus Lupin. We were your father's best friends through school and after.He was a brother to us, more than blood could ever be. When you were born... it was a magic none of us had ever seen before. Yet, it was one most muggles, if they're lucky, also get to witness. It was the birth of the future."

Remus satdown on a chair, realizing he and Sirius had been standing or pacing through most of the time the story was told. "When your parents made their sacrifice, we learned that the protection Lily gave you could be strengthened if you stayed with blood relatives. Petunia and Vernon here declared it fate, and insisted in no uncertain terms that you would live with them, despite Sirius here being your godfather. Since you live in a muggle town, with no wizards about anywhere, that meant that if he or I wanted to see you, it would best be done as if we were muggles, ourselves.

"So, we concocted false names, and decided to move in to Little Whinging, to stay close to you. Part of it was to protect you, but mostly because we love you, and want to spend time with you."

Harry nodded, and leaned into his Aunt Petunia. Reflexively, she put her arms aroundhim and held him close. "Did... did you two ever marry? Or have kids?"

Sirius blanched. "Harry... that's a tough question. I've had my share of girlfriends before... but seeing what James and Lily had, I wanted that, too. And I have yet to feel that with anyone. So, no, I haven't married yet. As for Remus..."

Lupin interrupted. "As for me, there are reasons why I haven't gotten close to the right girl yet, and let's leave it at that."

"Okay," said Harry. It was nearly ten o'clock by this point, and though he had slept under the potion''s influence for several hours, he felt his eyes begin to droop. He could have easily fallen asleep right then and there in his Aunt's arms, but something occurred to him. "Uncle Remus?" he asked tenatively.

"Yes?"

"Why did Uncle Sirius call you my Fuzzyfather?" 


	5. Chapter 5: The Sorcerer's Stone

A/N: Well, here's the answer to how Sorcerer's Stone turns out. I'll be skipping around, and only showing you the highlights, since we all know the original story.

The Sorcerer's Stone

As it was September first, King's Cross Station saw an unusual amount of traffic from a source most of the conductors and ticket-takers would not fully comprehend. There were literally hundreds of people there dressed... oddly. Lime green pants with purple plaid jackets, men wearing sundresses and women wearing tuxedos, and more than a few individuals wearing what could only be called robes milled about, before forming a rough line in front of a brick wall between platforms Nine and Ten. And for some reason, anyone who was not in the line did not even wish to look at them any longer.

If they had looked, they would have witnessed at first a frightening, then marvelous sight. Children, their carts loaded up with trunks and books and animal cages of all types, would bid tearful goodbyes to their parents, then rush headlong at the wall in what seemed an almost suicidal gesture - only to vanish the instant they made contact, as if the wall was not there at all. Then their parents would calmly walk away, and turn a corner... only to vanish, themselves.

"See, Pup? It's just like I told you," said a tall, slender man with long black hair. His silver-grey eyes danced with amusement, and his long arm was over the shoulder of a somewhat small eleven year old boy. The boy, himself, had messy black hair, and bright green eyes behind round-rimmed glasses. If one looked closely, one could see a jagged scar above one eye, almost like a lightning bolt. The boy looked at once excited, and apprehensive.

"Your boy's first year?" asked a kindly female voice from behind them. They turned, and saw a sea of red hair. The speaker was a gentle looking woman, shorter than average and rather plump, but beaming at them with a smile from the heart. "Oh, pardon me. I'm Molly Weasley," she introduced herself.

"Wife of Arthur Weasley?" aske the tall man. "Oh, sorry. I'm Sirius Black, and this little scamp here is my godson, Harry Potter."

A tiny face, covered in freckles and bearing long red hair peeked out from behind her mother as the names were said. Harry looked directly at this new face and smiled, but the little girl that wore it squeaked slightly, and darted back behind her mother. Meanwhile, Molly put one hand to her mouth. "Harry Potter? Oh, my word, how excellent! The tall one here is Percy, the twins are Fred and George, this one here is Ron, and my little girl behind me is Ginny, And if you don't mind me saying, how do you know Arthur?"

Sirius chuckled. "When I first became an Auror, they had me on front desk duty. He'd often come in early, excited about some new artifact or other, and have to wait with me until they opened the door. So we would chat a while, and got to know each other. He's a good man, your husband is."

Meanwhile, having gotten a glimpse of the little girl, Harry's curiosity was piqued. He looked at the various redheaded boys gathered around, and winked. All but the tallest one grinned back, and suddenly grabbed their sister. "Now, now, Ginevra," taunted one of the twins, "it's rather rude to go hiding behind Mum when meeting new people."

The poor girl was frozen stiff with fright, and wouldn't have been able to move even if three of her brothers weren't holding her in place. Percy simply made 'tut tut' noises, and looked away. As she stared at the Boy-Who-Lived, her eyes got wider and wider and wider, because he was walking right towards her.

"Hello, Ginevra. My name is Harry. And it's nice to meet you." His smile was warm, and as friendly as he coud make it, and he held out his hand.

Almost of its own will her hand rose. "N...n...nice t-to meet you, Harry," she managed to choke out.

He shook her hand, then turned to her brothers, and extended his hand. "Hiya," he said.

"Hi, I'm Fred." "I'm George." "And I'm Ron. Cor, you're a first year? Wicked, I am too!" they said as they enthusiastically shook his hand.

Percy, however, simply clasped his hand in the briefest of shakes, saying. "I am Percival, one of your prefects. Mind you follow the rules, and we shan't have any problems," he stated. The twins rolled their eyes, Ron groaned, and Ginny actually giggled at Harry's expression. Then realizing what was going on, Ginny darted back behind her mother.

The interplay between the kids was not lost on either Sirius or Molly, both of whom were smiling broadly. "Looks like you've already made some new friends, eh, Harry?"

Harry grinned back at him, and stepped into line between the twins and Ron. "Looks like it, Uncle Sirius," he answered.

All too soon, the time came for their own pass through the wall that separated the platforms. Harry glanced down at his trunk and his owl cage, hoping he got it right. Otherwise his new pet, a snowy owl named Hedwig, would be rather upset with him. Hedwig had been a gift from his Uncle Vernon as part of a party ceebrating his acceptance at Hogwarts, and Harry already loved her. He glanced behind him, saying "Goodby, Uncle Sirius! Goodbye, Mrs Weasley! And goodbye, Ginny!" Squeezing his eyes shut briefly, he sprinted forwards.

He was maybe two steps past the wall when Fred, or was it George, caught him by he shoulder, and he opened his eyes. The older Weasleys had gone first, to show the younger ones how to do it, and had expected something like this. After all, they had done it their first time. "Whoah, ickle Harrikins! You can stop running now," he joked.

Together, they boarded the train, and searched around for a compartment. Percy went to the front of the train for the Prefects meeting, and the Twins found a compartment with their friends, leaving Ron and Harry by themselves.

They sat together and traded stories they had heard about Hogwarts - Harry from Sirius, and Ron from his father and older brothers. They both agreed that Gryffindor has to be the best house, while Slytherin was the worst. After a rousing tale from Harry about the day the Slytherin Dungeons were pink for the entire Christmas Holidays, Ron suddenly slapped his forehead. "Oh, NO, mate! Oh, no!"

"What's the matter," asked Harry.

"My sister," groaned Ron. "Err... y'see... Mom would occasionally tell us about, umm, theboywholived as a bedtime story..."

"The what?" interrupted harry.

"The Boy Who lived," mumbled Ron. "You, okay? An' how you beat You-Know-Who as a baby."

"You-know... you mean Voldemort?"

Ron hissed. "Harry!" he groaned. "Please, we try not to say his name, you know? Anyway, Ginny loved the story. Got so bad she would only go to sleep after hearing about you. Every single night."

Blushing, Harry idly scratched behind his head. "Umm, okay... err, so, when did she finally stop asking for it?"

This time, it was Ron's turn to blush. "She, er, hasn't mate. Still won't go to sleep without hearing about you."

"Oh... no... and she just met me, and I was nice to her..." said Harry as the connection clicked in his brain. "W-when does she come to Hogwarts?"

"Next year," pronounced Ron as if it were a death sentence.

Their discussion was interrupted by a bright, chipper voice coming from the entrance to their compartment. "Excuse me," asked a bushy-haired girl. "Have either of you seen a toad? Neville here lost him, and we're trying to find him. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and who are you?"

zzzzzzz

They had reached Hogwarts, and Ron and Harry had come to the mutual decision that little Hermione was decidedly mental. A huge form bellowed out, "Firs' years, over 'ere! Firs' years, over 'ere!"

Recognizing the shape as the huge burly man that had accompanied him, along with Uncle Remus, to Diagon Alley, Harry waved. "Hagrid, hi!" he called out, grinning.

The broad, shaggy man broke out in a grin. "Harry, good ta see ya. An' I see y' made a friend or two," he added, nodding towards Ron, Neville, and Hermione.

"Looks like it," he joked. "I just wish Dudley could have been here, too. Too bad he's a muggle."

Hermione glanced at him. "Don't you mean a squib?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope, he's a muggle. He's my cousin, the son of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and doesn't have an ounce of magic in him. But he's the closest thing I've got to a brother, and I think he would have liked this place, from what we can see of it."

Sure enough, in the bright moonlight and the light of blazing torches, they could see the silhouette of a magnificent castle up ahead of them. Hagrid led the first years to the shore of a huge lake, and into the various boats that would take them across to the castle proper. "Mind ye don' fall in," he said, helping a few of the smaller children into the boats.

Hermione paused before going into the boat, and looked at Ron. "You have a spot of dirt on your nose," she said. He grumbled and wiped it off, and followed her into the boat.

Ron glanced at Harry. "Mental," he mouthed. Harry just nodded, and they soon began the ritual journey into Hogwarts for the very first time.

zzzzzzz

Harry stood nervously with the other 'Firstys', waiting on his turn to be called up to put the Sorting Hat on. Hermione and Neville had both ended up in Gryffindor, which was a good sign, but he was still nervous. Finally, the time came.

"Potter, Harry,"

As the whispers flew fast and furious, Harry steeled himself and strode up to the stool. Sitting up, he glanced at professor Minerva McGonagall. She very briefly gave him a hidden smile, then set the Hat upon his head.

'Oh, you're an interesting one,' came a voice inside his head. 'Where to put you, now,' it continued.

'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin', he thought back, almost as a mantra. He had been hearing for years now how, except for Peter Pettigrew and a handful of others, all of the evil wizards had come from Slytherin, and didn't want to be a part of that crew.

'Are you sure? You could be great there, great indeed,' responded the Hat. Observers later told Harry it smirked briefly while he had it on, probably about this time.

'ABSOLUTELY sure. NOT Slytherin,' he insisted.

'Then don't worry. You have ambition, yes, but it's not for power - it's to make your family proud. No, the problem is you're smart enough for Ravenclaw, loyal enough for Hufflepuff, and brave enough for Gryffindor.' It paused, making humming noises in his head as it gently searched through his mind. 'But wait... you may be smart, but you're not one for study. And you may be loyal, but you're not extremely hardworking. However... your honor is as strong as your courage, Mister Potter. Therefore, my choice can only be...' "GRYFFINDOR!"

Chants of "We got Harry!" resounded along with cheers, and Harry Potter took his place beside Neville and Hermione. Very shortly after, the threesome was joined by Ron, and they all relaxed as dinner begn.

zzzzzzz

The next few weeks flew by in a blur for Harry. He had been embarrassed by Snape in his first Potions class, though he did answer a few of the slimy git's questions correctly, and by acting to help Neville he had both earned the emnity of one Draco malfoy, and become the youngest Seeker in Quidditch at Hogwarts in over a century.He and Ron had gone to visit Hagrid a couple times,and almost got him to say what was behind a certain door in the third floor corridor, and both had decided that Hermione was not only mental, she was probably the smartest witch in the year.

Harry and Ron discovered the mysterious Mirror of Erised. Ron looked into it, and saw himself as Best Boy and Quidditch Captain. Harry, however, saw only a hint of something. He mostly saw just what was reflected in the room, but he could almost make out the hazy outlines of a man and a woman flanking him. He assumed they were his parents, but pushed the thought away slightly, as he knew it would do no good to dwell upon that.

When Halloween came around, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Proffessor Quirrell, had rushed into the Great Hall, proclaiming there was a troll in the dungeons. Ron and Harry rushed to where a thoughtless comment by Ron had sent Hermione off crying just before the Halloween Feast, and saved her from the troll, defeating it. In return, Hermione 'saved' them from detention or worse, and the three fell into a friendship that would last a lifetime.

zzzzzzz

Thr Christmas Holidays came around, and Harry was excited. While Hagrid and Grampa Albus... err, Headmaster Dumbledore were here at Hogwarts, he could not wait to go home and be with his family. He had owled them nearly every day when he first got to school, and once the hols came closer, did so again. Three days before the Holidays, he approached Ron and Hermione. "Umm, guys, do you think your parents would mind if I invited you guys to my place for Christmas?"

Hermione frowned and bit her lip. "I don't know, Harry. I'm not sure if they'd want me spending that much time alone with two boys, even with chaperones."

Ron looked somewhat confused, then shook it off. "I dunno, Harry. Let me owl Mum, and see what she says."

Harry nodded. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'm sure they'll eventually realize you're like a siter to us, if anything. Maybe during the Summer Hols we can get together. Plus we got the entire next term, don't forget."

In the end, Mrs Weasley's answer was a very firm 'Yes'.

zzzzzzz

At Number Four Privet Drive, the excitement of the holidays was at a fever pitch. Not only was Harry coming back from Hogwarts, he was also bringing his best friend, Ron Weasley. Knowing this, the Dursleys and the Weasleys got together, and started planning something a little extra.

Ron and Dudley hit it off well, and Dudley was fascinated by Ron's coppy of 'Quidditch through the Ages'. "It's like watching play by plays on the telly!" he exclaimed, seeing the moving wizarding photos.

On the evening of the twenty-fourth, Ron, Harry, and Dudley were all up in Harry's room, talking about the day to come. "What do you think Hermione and Neville are doing, Harry?" asked Ron.

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, I'd put a thousand galleons on Hermione doing that Potions essay, if she hasn't finished it already, and Neville's probably trying to convince himself to go to sleep so it can be tomorrow already."

"Who's Hermione, Harry? She your girlfriend?" asked Dudley.

"No!" objected Ron. "She's not his girlfriend."

"Oh. Is she yours, then?"

Ron's ears turned a very bright red, as he said "Err, no, she's not my girlfriend." He studied his apparantly quite interesting socks as he said this.

Harry piped up. "She's my other best friend. Remember the letter from Halloween? She's the girl Ron and I saved from the troll. And she's the smartest witch in our class."

"Oh, okay." He scrunched up his face trying to think. He wasn't as bright as Harry, or even Ron, and he knew it. But, since he was much stronger, thought fair was fair and didn't worry about it much. After a moment, he opened his eyes. "Oh, yeah, the bushy haired girl."

"That's her alright," noted Ron. "Anyway, so what's it like being a muggle with magical uncles?"

Dudley shrugged. "I dunno. We didn't even know they were magical until summer before last. That's when we found out Harry, Uncle Remus, Uncle Sirius, and Grandpa Albus were all wizards."

"Grandpa Albus?" breathed Ron, eyes widening.

Harry blushed a bit himself. "He's not really our grandpa. May as well be, though. And he told me not to call him that in school, 'cuz he's the headmaster and all."

"Harry," protested Ron, "how could you NOT know Albus Dumbledore was a wizard? He's only like the most famous wizard alive! Next to you, of course."

This got a chuckle out of Dudley. "Harry, famous? Oh, I bet he loves that! Back in school, if he was called on in class he tried to crawl under his desk."

Ron nodded. "Everybody in the Wizarding World knows Harry's name. And his scar. What happened to him and your Aunt and Uncle is even a bedtime story for kids." Saying this, he winked at Harry, who flopped backwards on the bed with a groan.

"Oh, don't bring that up again, please," begged Harry.

"Oh, oh, bring it back up, bring it back up!" pleaded Dudley, seeing Ron's evil grin. "Why the big wink and all?"

Ron told Dudley about Ginny, and about the 'introduction' at the train station. Dudley laughed and laughed, and grabbed his cousin. "Harry, Harry, Harry, you aren't even a teenager yet and you already got a girlfriend! Beat me to it, to, you did!"

"She's NOT my girlfriend!" he protested.

"Funny, that sounds just like Ron sayin' Hermione ain't HIS girlfriend," joked Dudley.

"Right, that's it!" retorted Harry. He slipped out of his cousin's grasp, and promptly hit him over the head with a pillow. The pillowfight that ensued was truly an epic struggle, and was only silenced when Uncle Sirius came into the room and conjured more than thirty pillows that swamped the boys, then he ordered them to go to bed.

zzzzzzz

Christmas morning started off quietly, as Ron and Harry snuck over to Dudley's room, and the three began to sneak downstairs. They were proud of how stealthy they were, and knew that they would be the first ones in the Den when the time came to open presents.

They were, of course, quite wrong.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" shouted several voices as soon as Harry set foot on the last step. The lights came on, and to their amazement, they saw a rather large crowd of people... a lot of whom had flaming red hair, and at least one of whom had bushy brown hair.

Besides the Dursleys, Uncle Sirius, and Uncle Remus, the entire Weasley clan was there. Hermione was there, as well, with two attractive adults they assumed were her parents. And sitting by the fire in bright green and red robes, was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

The boys were too stunned to move at first, then began racing around the room giving greetings. Dudley stayed by 'Grandpa Albus' as he was introduced to the Weasleys and the grangers, and several chairs and couches were conjured so that everyone would have room to sit down. Harry was glad to notice the new furnishings were nearly identical to those in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry and Dudley met the older Weasley boys, Bill and Charlie,  
as well as Arthur Weasley, Ron's father.

Dudley glanced around. "Err, Grandpa Albus, is the room... bigger somehow?"

Dumbledore laughed. "It most certainly is, my boy. With this many people, it needed to be."

"Err..." he began. Before he could stop himself, he asked, "But how?"

The old wizard's eyes twinkled merrily. "Well, by..."

"...Magic, of course" Everyone finished his statement for him.

Ron, however, was slightly frantic. "Umm, don't mean to pry, but... where, um, where are the presents?"

Ginny giggled at her brother, and shook her head. "Silly boy, Father Christmas is the one who brings the presents!" She then saw Harry glance at her, and froze, then tried to sink into the cushions as far as she could.

Confused, Harry shrugged, and turned to his Uncle Vernon. "You used to play Father Christmas. Why not this year?"

Vernon smiled. "Simple. I couldn't carry all the presents for everyone here, I'd break my back! No, we have a better Father Christmas, one I'm certain you will be happy to see." He then turned to Dumbledore, and nodded.

A few moments later, the merry fire in the fireplace turned green, startling the Grangers, who were unused to Floo travel. Out of the fire stepped probably the largest Father Christmas the boys had ever seen. It was, of course, Hagrid. After a quick spell from Mrs Weasley to remove the soot, he stepped into the middle of the room. "HO, Ho, ho!" he boomed. "I hear there's a whole lot o' good boys an' girls in this 'ere 'ouse! So, where are they?"

The twins smiled. Fred, or was it George, said, "Hey, don't look..."

"...At us!" finished Grorge, or was it Fred.

After nearly twenty minutes, dozens and dozens of presents had been pulled from the bag Hagrid carried, and distributed to the various individuals in the Den. More, in fact, than should have been able to fit in that sack. Dudley nearly asked how, but realized... magic, of course. All thought of this was lost, however, in the frenzy of slaughtered ribbons and massacred wrapping paper that ensued as one by one everyone opened their presents, and showed everyone else what they had gotten.

zzzzzzz

School after the holidays was difficult to adjust to at first, but they soon picked it back up. Potions class was as bad as ever, and so was Draco Malfoy. However, the Gryffindor trio had bigger fish to fry than classes, namely the mystery of what lay behind a certain corridor on the third floor.

In another reality, one more bleak and dismal than this, they would discover a Cerberus, and vines that would try to squeeze the life from you. They would find a giant chessboard, and flying keys, and potions to take you back or send you on. And in the final room, Harry would confront Proffessor Quirrell, and the /thing/ that had once been Voldemort living in his head. Harry would emerge victorious over Voldemort a second time, by destroying the Sorcerer's Stone and slaying Quirrell with the touch of his mother's love.

In this reality, however... the exact same thing occurred. With one exception.

As Harry reached out to grab Quirrell's face, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Professor." 


	6. Chapter 6: Chamber of Secrets I

A/N: Okay, time for Chamber of Secrets. As with last time, I'm just going to cover highlights, and where things turn out differently from Canon. As it's looking now, seems like the big differences will come in Third year, though Fourth will still have some similarities. The notes to reviewers will be at the end, this time...

Chapter 6: The Chamber of Secrets pt I.

"Vernon," said Petunia Dursley, "I'm getting worried about Harry."

The rotund, mustachioed man who sat next to his beloved wife nodded. "I know, dear. He's been so quiet since he came back from Hogwarts. It probably has to do with what happened at the very end, there."

"Oh, dear," said Petunia. "that horrible encounter with that wicked professor, that was just too much for him to bear."

"No, Pet," Vernon chided gently. "I don't think it was the encounter that did it. I think it was being directly responsible for the death of that teacher that did it."

Upstairs, a small boy lay on his bed, looking at the ceiling. He was barely a month away from his birthday, when he would be twelve, and he had already done something no one else his age, that he knew of, had done.

He had killed a man.

That man was his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And the reason he had killed the man was because of what resided in the man's head. It was a thing of unspeakable evil, a thing that devoured the blood of innocent unicorns, and sought to be reborn in order to bring terror and forment chaos among the Wizarding World once more. It was the creature that had slain both sets of his grandparents, and given him the scar above his brow that would mark him as the Boy Who Lived forever.

Voldemort. The Dark Lord, Master of the Death Eaters, had found a parasitic half-life in the head of Professor Quirrell. And so the man had to die for that, whether Harry wanted him to or not.

He squeezed his eyes shut, as tears threatened to leak out. Why had the professor done that? Why had he, effectively, sold his soul to the worst evil to walk the world since Grindelwald and Adolf Hitler, and possibly even more evil than they were? it just didn't make sense.

A loud knock at the door startled him out of his reverie. He wiped his eyes carefully, saying, "Come in!"

The door opened, and his Uncle Vernon stepped in. "You didn't eat much at dinner tonight, Harry," he began. "Your Aunt, Cousin and I are worried about you."

Harry looked at his Uncle, and silently weighed his options. On the one hand, this was the man who had been like a father to him since he was barely over a year old. His advice was usually sound, and they loved each other. On the other, Uncle Vernon was a muggle, without an ounce of magic in him, and might not understand the mind of a wizard.

Seeing the indecision on his face, Uncle Vernon sighed. "Do you want to talk to me about it? Or perhaps Uncle Sirius, or Granpda Albus?"

Harry froze at Dumbledore's name briefly. "He... he's not mad at me for killing his proffessor?"

Vernon shook his head. "No, boy. He knows why it happened, and why you did what you did. He's not mad at you in the slightest."

Harry paused. If he told Uncle Vernon or Uncle Sirius everything, they might not quite love him as much anymore, and that would be something harry couldn't stand. And Grandpa Albus... he knew things. He probably already knew what had really happened down there, and why Harry had done what he had done. "G... Grandpa Albus, please."

Uncle Vernon nodded. "Then come with me downstairs. You can floo him, and go visit with him for a while."

Together, the two made their way down to the Den, and Uncle Vernon handed Harry the urn of Floo Powder. "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts!" called out Harry, as he tossed a handful into the fireplace.

zzzzzzz

Albus Dumbledore looked at the young lad sitting next to him behind his desk. He had sworn to himself not to get emotionally involved, back when he first dropped little harry off at the Dursleys. But the first time Harry called him "Grandpa Albus", his resolve had crumbled.

Now, the boy was telling him a story of horror no child should have had to endure. Harry had only told him the briefest of details about his encounter with Professor Quirrell, and Albus had thought nothing of it. Now, however, learning that the shade of Voldemort had indeed been possessing his hand-picked DADA teacher, Albus was quite disturbed. When Harry mentioned Quirrel's end, Albus frowned.

"Are... are you mad at me, Grandpa Albus?" asked the boy in a meek voice.

"What? Why of course not, my dear child. I'm mad at myself, for not seeing the clues that were in front of my face sooner. That you should have had to go through this... Harry, did you know that your parents' love saved you once again?" Dumbledore leaned in, and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "That protection is still strong in you. And because of the presence of Voldemort's unquiet spirit, Quirrell simply could not abide your touch.

"Your years with the love of your Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin have only reinforced that protection to staggering levels. So when the horrible corruption that was Voldemort's host took hold of you, it was seared by the purity of that love. Harry, the instant that Quirrell accepted Voldemort into his body, he became less than human. He was effectively a walking corpse, simply waiting on his master's resurrection."

"Then..." began Harry. "Then... I didn't really kill him? I just, umm, put him back to sleep, so to speak, like a mad dog?"

"Exactly, my child," responded Dumbledore triumphantly.

The young lad seemed content with this knowledge, but something else occurred to him. "Umm... Grandpa Albus... why do people call Voldemort things like 'You Know Who' and such?"

"Fear, Harry." Dumbledore stood, and slowly knelt beside his favorite student. "When people are afraid of something, they try to avoid it as much as possible. And in Voldemort's case, they even avoid his name."

"I don't understand. How can his name be scary? It sounds kinda goofy to me. I mean it's not as scary as names like 'Morgoth', or 'Sauron', from Tolkein."

Albus laughed out loud. "Too true, Harry. But for the Wizarding World, that very name echoes the sheer terror of the time you were born into. I have struggled time after time to break people of that habit, myself. Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing, Harry. And a name is just a word. I used to have a very hard time explaining that idea before your mother gave me those words, you know," he added with a wink.

"So my mother and father said his name? Is that why Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius say his name, 'cuz they're not afraid of him? Uncle Vernon an' Aunt Petunia are muggles, so they didn't really know all the fear and that, so they can say it without fear?" The words tumbled rapidly out of Harry's mouth, like puppies with newfound growth stumbling all over each other.

"Precisely. And that's partly why you can, too. You grew up as a muggle, without the stories of fear and terror. And so you don't have that fear within you." Dumbledore stood, and held out his hands. "Now, come, Harry. It's time for us to go back to your home. I beleive Petunia is fixing her wonderful Shepherd's Pie, and I wouldn't want to miss that."

Smiling for perhaps the first time since his horrible encounter, harry stood himself, and embraced Dumbledore, before following him to the fireplace, and from thence to his home.

zzzzzzz

Harry potter slept well that night for the very first time. However, that sleep wouldn't last. He felt a weight press itself down upon his chest, and opened his eyes to see what it was. He then screamed briefly.

A pair of huge watery eyes stared at him from a relatively ugly face. If Harry had been a girl, he might have said it was so ugly it was cute, but thoughts like that were the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. "Gaaaah! What are you!" he cried.

"Shhhhhh!" it demanded, placing one long, bony finger up to its lips. "Dobby came to warn Harry potter, sir! Sir must NOT go back to Hogwarts! Death awaits him!"

Reaching for his glasses, Harry put them on his face and stared at the little creature. It was still dark, but the hint of light on the horizon let him know it was nearly dawn. "Umm... death?"

"Oh! Dobby cannot say more, harry Potter, sir, please do not ask him to! Dobby will have to punish himself then, he will!" wailed the little creature.

A voice from outside the door caught their attention. "Harry, are you alright in there?" called his Aunt Petunia. "I thought I heard voices."

"Oh, no!" cried Dobby, who suddenly vanished from sight with a loud CRACK.

"I'm okay, Aunt Petunia!" called Harry. "I just dropped something, sorry! And I was just having a weird dream... I think."

zzzzzzz

Breakfast that morning was a bit more lively affair than in previous weeks, mainly because 'Grandpa Albus' had helped Harry snap out of his funk. He still felt bad about killing Quirrell, but understood that he hadn't really killed him, just sent him to where he needed to be. Soon, however, came a persistant tapping from the kitchen door. "I wonder who that could be?" asked Uncle Vernon, as he pulled his hefty frame out of his chair, and walked over to open the door.

Through the door flew what appeared to be a pile of old grey feathers, which promptly collapsed on the breakfast table. On closer inspection of the portion of the feathers that had landed in his cereal, Dudley exclaimed, "It's an owl!"

"That's odd," said Uncle Vernon. "The owls mostly use the back window, not the door."

"My word, it's Errol," said Petunia, as she scooped the aging owl off the table tenderly, and carried him over to a cushion to rest, "the Weasley's owl. I wonder what happened to him, he looks terrible!"

Harry started. "The Weasleys? Ron hasn't written me all summer, why now? Come to think of it, neither has Hermione."

A mournful hoot attracted their attention, and a quivering leg slowly extended itself. There, tied to the leg, was a bundle of letters, addressed to Harry Potter and one addressed to Vernon and Petunia Potter. They gently took the letters off the aging owl's leg, and it promptly collapsed back on the cushion. "I think he's dead," muttered Dudley.

Petunia softly stroked the old owl, and held her hand gently on his chest. "No, dear, he's simply sleeping, The poor thing is absolutely knackered." She paused for a moment. "Err... should I put a blanket on him or something?"

Harry laughed. "No, but I'd suggest a couple of Hedwig's owl treats and a cup of water for when he wakes up."

Opening the bundle, Harry began reading the first letter:

Harry:

Haven't you gotten any of my letters? I've written four times so far with no answers.  
I tell you, it's beginning to worry me, mate. Are you even getting them? Are you mad at me for some reason?

Anyway, things are going great here at the Burrow. If you manage to get THIS one, Mum wants to know if you'd like to spend the end of Summer with us. Please say yes, I know the Twins and Ginny would agree. Especially Ginny, heheh.

Cheers,

Ron.

The next letter was a similarly worded one from the Twins, while the last was one from Mrs. Weasley. Hers echoed the same sentiments, but had just a touch of hysterical worry. He almost laughed, but sobered up when he realized how this must be affecting the kindly woman.

While Harry was reading, Hedwig had flown down from his room, and stood over Errol, watching him intently. She looked up at the humans, and hooted twice, then tapped the exhausted bird with one leg. She hooted again, and flew over to Harry, and nipped lovingly at his earlobe. "I know, girl, he's a mite old to be carrying letters all the way from Ottery St Catchpole."

Vernon coughed slightly. "Harry, my boy, do you know anything about these letters Molly says her family wrote before this one?"

Harry shook his head, confused. "No, Uncle Vernon. I thought Ron and Hermione were mad at me or something."

"How odd." Vernon shook his head, and continued. "She also wants to know if we'd give our permission for you to spend the end of the summer with them. Would you like that, Harry?"

The young lad grinned back. "Of course, Uncle Vernon! They got to visit here, so I'd love to visit there!"

Vernon grinned, and walked over to the fireplace, and handed Harry the floo powder. "You know what to do, my boy."

Taking a handful of floo powder, Harry tossed it in. "The Burrow!" he cried out.

With a flash of green, the fire flared up, then revealed the face of an old witch. "I'm sorry, but the Floo Connection between here and Ottery St Catchpole has been temporarily disabled by circumstances unknown. Please try again later, or use the Owl Post or Apparition. Thank you for your patience as we work to restore connectivity, and your continued support. Good bye!" she said, before vanishing.

Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. "Well," he said, "I guess this explains why they didn't try to floo when the owls wouldn't get through. But what happened to the owls?"

"That's something we can ask Dumbledore about," said Uncle Vernon. "For now, let's just write a letter back, and get things all set up. Who knows, maybe the Weasleys would let us stay for a day or two, as well. Then we could have your birthday party at the Burrow, wouldn't that be fun?"

Harry's broad grin said it all.

zzzzzzz

In the late afternoon of July 30'th, a car horn honked outside Number Four Privet Drive. Glancing out the front window, Harry called out "I think they're here!"

The car was an old Ford Anglia, and looked to barely be able to fit Harry, Ron, and the Twins, let alone Harry and the Dursleys. Then, to his amazement, almost the entire Weasley clan, save Bill and Charlie, seemed to pour out of the vehicle. He almost wondered how, then stopped himself. Of course it was magic. On the other hand, it also put Harry in mind of those little cars where clowns would keep pouring out, and he bit back a laugh as he opened the door.

Unfortunately, Arthur Weasley was in motion as he was about to knock on the door. He didn't hit Harry, but threw himself off balance, and nearly fell over the boy. "Oh, dear, oh dear, Harry, sorry about that!"

This time, Harry allowed himself to laugh. "It's okay, Mr. Weasley. I was right at the door, so I opened it. Come on in."

The Weasleys followed him in, and greeted Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. "Good morning," said Vernon. "As you can see, we're all packed. Petunia, Dudley and I have overnight bags, while Harry has everything he needs until and including school."

"Excellent," said Mr. Weasley. He then cast a spell, and the various bags and trunks and packages, save for hedwig's cage, of course, started floating around the room, then marching merrily towards the door.

Dudley's eyes bulged. "Wicked!" he exclaimed.

Ron walked up to Harry. "Good to see you, mate!" he exclaimed. "Ready to see the Burrow?"

"I sure am," answered Harry, grinning. "I've never been in a real wizarding house, before. The house Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus live in doesn't count, they live like muggles but with a few... luxuries, you might say."

"Cor, I bet."

A muted squeak let Harry know that Ginny was in fact there. The fact that the squeak came from behind Mrs. Weasley was no surprise. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley. Sorry about that, sounds like we have mice in here." He then winked at the kindly woman.

"Oh, never you mind that," said Mrs. Weasley. "Come here and give me a hug." He complied, and was treatedto a bonecrushing grip that would have frightened the troll from their first year. "Now, you and your family go on outside, and get in the car. Trust me, there's room for all of us."

The drive was relatively short for one main reason - once out of Little Whinging, Mr. Weasley told them all to puton their seat belts, activated what he called the 'Invisibility Booster', and another little button he had hidden on the car. Suddenly, they roared into the sky, zooming through the clouds like a muggle airplane.

Harry was ecstatic, although the Dursleys looked a mite queasy. He loved to fly, by whatever means, and this was just another excuse to let slip the bonds of Earth and race off into the heavens. He undid his seatbelt, and slid over top of Ron to get near the window. "This is BRILLIANT!" he cried.

Ron grinned back. "Dad works for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department. He may not get paid much, but he gets loads of perks!"

Down on the ground, a lone hitchiker began to question his sanity. He couldn't hear anything, but could swear he heard the sound of a car motor, and a child's whoops of joy.

zzzzzzz

On first sight of the Burrow, Harry and the Dursleys wondered how it kept from completely falling apart. The Dursleys had been given rings that let them see through the disguises that kept muggles away, and decided that they weren't sure if the house looked like more of a wreck on the outside with the rings on, or off.

Once inside, however, they decided that the burow was one of the most wondrous things they had ever seen. Harry was shown up to Ron's room, where he would be staying for the rest of the summer, while his family stored their bags in one corner of the living room, as they would be spending the night there,

The Burrow was quiet for most of that night, except of course for the occasional banging and howling of the family ghoul, but even he kept it down somewhat to take it easy on the visitors. There was only one other source of sound that night, and it was perhaps the smallest human being there. Ginny Weasley was proud, however, of being the quietest of her family when she wanted to be, and crept slowly to her brother's door, and opened it just a crack.

Sure enough, there he was. The boy of her dreams, quite literally. For as long as she could remember, she had been having dreams about him, even before her mother told her the story of The Boy Who Lived. The funny thing is, some of them were about them as adults, or at least older teenagers, and some were about him as a boy. They confused her quite a bit, because in the ones where he was a boy, his family hated him. She recognised Uncle Vernon on sight from her dreams earlier that Christmas, but he bore a comfortable, easygoing air her dream version had not. He seemed to dote on both Harry and Dudley, who himself was not as grotesque or crude as he had been in the dreams.

But Harry was still Harry. Those green eyes, the lightning scar, and the round rimmed glasses. The only difference between the boy in her dreams and the boy lying asleep in front of her was that he seemed... stronger, somehow. Physically, he wasn't that much bigger, but he as clearly healthier. He was also more outgoing, as his introduction to her last year had shown.

She never saw full events in these dreams, just snippets, little vignettes of what could come, or perhaps had come somewhere else, somewhere that was Harry's private hell. But she knew that eventually he would be with her, and that was enough for her. Closing the door behind her softly,she crept back to bed, and went to sleep.

zzzzzzz

Harry awoke on the morning of the 31'st slightly confused. Opening his eyes, he saw he wasn't in his room, but rather some place... orange. He blinked, and put on his glasses, and realized that what he wa staring at was a huge poster of the Chudley Cannons proffesional Quidditch team. In a flash, he realized where he was, and glanced over at the bed next to him... which was empty. "Must be downstairs already," he muttered to himself. He slipped out of bed, and grabbed his clothes for the day, then padded down the hall in his pyjamas to take a shower.

Refreshed, revitalized, dressed, and with his wet hair STILL refusing to lie flat, he started down the stairs, intending to get a light breakfast with whoever else was up. The date still hadn't clicked in his mind, until, rounding the last step, he heard more than a dozen voices cry out, "SURPRISE!"

In addition to the Weasleys, his family, and Uncles Sirius and Remus, Grandpa Albus and Hermione were both there. Hugs were passed around, and Mrs Weasley joined Aunt Petunia in making a serious fuss over him. "Now, Harry, dear, you go eat breakfast, and you and the kids go out and play some Quidditch. We'll have the full party this afternoon, alright?" said the portly matron as a statement, and not a question.

Harry grinned. "Of course! It'll be great to show Dudley his first real, live Quidditch game! But waitaminute... we have Fred and George, Ron, and me. That's only four, not really enough for a good game."

A hand laid itself on his shoulder. "I'm hurt! How could you forget about me, pup?" asked uncle Sirius, grinning like a madman.

"Okay, that's five, who's the sixth? That way we can each have a keeper, a Chaser, and a Seeker."

A small voice called out. "You forgot me!" He glanced in that direction, and saw Ginny. She quavered a bit under his gaze, like she wanted to hide behind her mother as usual, but she stood her ground. "Girls can play Quidditch too, you know! Look at the Hollyhead Harpies, they're all girls, and they beat Ron's precious Chudley Canons every time!"

"Now, dear, you just don't worry yourself about it," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'm certain they can play with five. Why, Harry will be the seeker for both teams, when he catches the snitch whichever team is ahead will win."

Harry made a quick decision. "Why CAN'T she play, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked.

Molly Weasley stared at him for a moment, opening and closing her mouth. On the one hand, she wanted to protect her littlest child, her only daughter. On the other, she wanted to support her in whatever decisions she made when she was old enough. She glanced over at Ginny, only to see a look on her face she had never seen before. Her daughter was... resolute. Almost defiant. At that moment, the older Weasley woman had no doubt that if she said no, her daughter would sneak out of the house and go play anyway, a realization that nearly broke her heart. "O... okay, Ginny. You can go play with them," she finally said. "But no bludgers, do you hear me?"

zzzzz

Okay, the chapter's over...Now, for my reviewers:

Lady Lily3: It's there because it's a faint hint that THIS Harry is slightly more accepting of his feelings, and slightly more able to express them. He grew up in a loving home, although the presence of bullies like Piers Polkiss meant he learned about what makes them tick early on. He thinks of Voldemort and Professor Quirrell as nothing more than overgrown bullies, and similar to maddogs, and is therefore rather sad that he has to "put them down".

fragonknight01: Hey, dun worry about not reviewing every chapter. And heheh, thanks for the dubious accusation of the story being 'adorable'!

athenakitty: In order: Dunno, nope (he was never accused, and is in fact considered a hero of the War), and you'll find out in Third year. :D And as a variant on your first question, perhaps SOMEONE will eventually realize what's going on...

thefuturemrs.felton: Hey, I'm writing more, how's this? And Grandpa Albus will likely make more informed choices about Harry, since a) he knows what kind of boy he is ever so slightly better than 'canon' Dumbledore, and b ) he can get more accurate advice from Vernon and petunia if he needs it.

warra: Self deprivation? No, that's not the direction I'm going with this, sorry.

Radszilla: Thankys. And the idea came from the title of an anime - Betterman. I just let it fester and boil in my subconscious for a while.

Rising Phoenix: Why is Remus "Fuzzyfather"? Well, Sirius was trying to obliquely poke fun at Remus's 'monthlies'... you know, the ones where he sprouts fur, fangs, and claws, and howls at the full moon...

The Bell and the Black Dragon: Heh, no, Dudley hasn't changed COMPLETELY. He's still a bit of a dullard who thinks with his stomach and his fists. However, his direction has changed. He's been raised as, effectively, Harry's 'bodyguard', and has learned that doing the right thing feels better, quite often, than doing what you want. And as I said... Harry actually did feel sorry for what he had to do to Quirrell. And this Harry is better about expressing his feelings and emotions than Canon Harry.

Son Of Evil: Something tells me that if Harry DID have this in Canon, it wouldn't have captured peoples' imaginations like it had. This story, IMHO, is interesting more as "How would it be different", rather than "This is how it should have been". A hero who triumphs through adversity is more interesting than one who triumphs over pleasant conditions, and one of Canon Harry's triumphs is growing up as a caring individual despite the bleakness of his home life.

reedy70002: It's like the Butterfly Effect. 


	7. Chapter 7: Chamber of Secrets II

A/N:  
Continuing on from the previous chapter, here are the events of Harry's Second year. As with previous chapters, only those areas that differ considerably from Canon will be touched on in any detail - the rest will be summarized.

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. And thank you, JKR, for a book that educates as it entertains, and teaches lessons about love, tolerance, hope, and loyalty without preaching those lessons.

Chamber of Secrets II

Harry Potter thoroughly enjoyed the next four weeks at the Burrow. While they played only the occasional game of Quidditch, he could have cared les. He explored every nook and cranny of the Weasley's wonderful home, asking Ron or Mrs. Weasley endless questions about knicknacks and doo-dads that he came across. One of his favorites was the Family Clock, which showed every member of the family, and what they were doing or where they were at the time. He wondered to himself if he could have a clock like that at Hogwarts, so that he wouldn't ever worry about his family or his 'uncles'.

The trip to Diagon Alley was coming up in two days, and Harry remembered his previous trip. He had gotten his pet owl, Hedwig, his first wand, and his first true look into the Wizarding World, He loved it, and he couldn't wait to go back.

Harry was currently sitting in the living room, playing a bizarre three-way version of the ancient muggle Chinese game, Go. Charlie had brought it with him on his most recent trip home, saying that a co-worker had introduced him to the game. It was, of course, enchanted, and captured stones would vanish to the proper bowls on their own, and the areas called "living space" would tend to pulsate and breathe, to help newer players keep track of what was and was not possible. Ron took to it like a duck to water, but Harry and the Twins had a rough time keeping up, even when they ganged up on him.

A flare of green in the fireplace caught their attention. A head popped up, wrathed in long hair and bearing a beard that flowed down out of sight. Half-moon spectacles perched precariously on a crooked nose, and twinkling eyes regarded the boys. "Ah, Harry, excellent, just the lad I wished to see."

"Grandpa Albus!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Thank Merlin! Now I can bow out of the game without having to make an excuse. Ron's SLAUGHTERING us!"

"Ronald, could you please ask your mother to come in here a moment?" asked Dumbledore. "It would be most polite for me to ask her permission before simply stepping through the fire."

"Of course, Professor!" he said, and jumped to his feet, running into the kitchen. "Mom!" he called out before passing through the door.

Fred and George grinned, and placed themselves on either side of Harry. Fred rested his head on Harry's left shoulder, while George did the same on the right. "So..." began Fred.

"... Grandpa Albus..." continued George.

"What is it..."

"That you needed to..."

"Se us about..."

"On this fine summer day?" finished George.

Dumbledore grinned and his eyes twinkled as he heard the manner in which the twins addressed him. "Alas, I am sorry, boys, but what I must say is for Harry's ears, alone."

Both looked crestfallen for a moment. Fred then perked up briefly, shortly followed by George, but they they put on artfully depressed faces. "Oh, of course, headmaster. Whatever you say," they said in unison.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling out of the kitchen. "Oh, Albus, this is a pleasant surprise. Please, do come in!" she invited.

"Why thank you, Molly," said the wizened wizard. Moments later, the tall, lanky frame of the most powerful wizard in all of Britain was standing in the Burrow's living room. He took a deep breath, then sniffed the air, and smiled. "I dare say, if my nose does not deceive me, you boys will be in for a treat for supper tonight."

"And you as well, if you'd like to stay," said Mrs. Weasley. "You know that you're always welcome to come over for a meal."

"I am so sorry, Molly, but other matters draw me away this night. I am merely here because I must speak with Harry." He looked honestly sad at the prospect of missing one of her home-cooked meals. "Now, if you will excuse Harry and me, is there somewhere appropriate that we may discuss private matters?"

Molly nodded. "You can use Ron's room. Harry will probably feel comfortable there." She caught the glance that the twins passed each other, and added, "And I'll keep these three redheaded rapscallions in the kitchen with me, so they don't interrupt you."

Dumbledore laughed honestly. "I do not doubt they would indeed try. They remind me much of a certain troublesome foursome from many years back, they do. Now, come, Harry, show these old bones the way to Ronald's bedroom."

Harry had been quiet the entire time his 'Grandpa Albus' had been there, concerned at what might need to be said to him alone. Had something happened to his family? No, Dumbledore seemed to be in too good of a mood for something like that. But he sensed a harder edge behind it all, almost an urgency. Why had he come today? And what was keeping him from staying for dinner? He almost missed the old wizard's request, but then nodded, and led him upstairs.

Dumbledore closed the door to the room behind them, then muttered several spells about the room, then over the door, then over the windows. "Simply precautions, Harry. We MUST not be overheard. What I have to tell you today is something I had wanted to wait to tell you until you were much older, but the events of last year, and my own respect for your budding maturity, have forced my hand. Come, let us sit on the bed."

Harry sat down, and Dumbledore sat down beside him. He then reached into his pocket, and pulled out two small objects. Muttering a spell over them, they enlarged into a small table, and an odd stone dish engraved with runes and other symbols. He place the dish upon the table, and turned to Harry. "My boy, this is a Pensieve. It is used to store memories, and help one organize one's mind. I find it highly useful, myself. But it can also show memories, and bring out details one may have forgotten."

The young man made the connection. "And you want me to put my memory of th...that night in there? So you can see what exactly happened with Quirrell and Voldemort?"

"Only if you truly feel you are ready to see that scene again, Harry," he said. "Because if you are ready, then I have something I must share with you, as well."

Silence reigned in the room for quite a while as many different emotions warred visibly on Harry's face. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "How?"

Dumbledore demonstrated, then helped harry draw the silver thread of memory. After watching it, His heart went out to the boy for having suffered so that night. "It is as I feared, and as I have already told you. That was indeed Voldemort, and he was not truly destroyed that horrific halloween, nearly eleven years ago." He took his spectacles off, and wiped them idly with the hem of one sleeve. He took another deep brath, and replaced them. "And I must, indeed, share with you a memory I had not wished to. But I believe you must see it."

Fear crossed Harry's face. "Voldemort is still out there?" he asked.

"Oh, not in a physical sense," quickly replied the old wizard. "But I fear his spirit lingers on, having been anchored here somehow. Brace yourself, Harry, what I am to show you is something no one else, not even your Aunt and your many Uncles, must know." He touched his wand to his forehead, and dragged a tenebrous silver strand to the penseive. A scene appeared, floating above, of a roughly appointed room. The headmaster was there in the memory, as was a woman who might have been attractive, except for her horrendously overcolorful outfit, caked on makeup, and buglike eyes bulging behind huge glasses.

Suddenly, the woman in the image stiffened, and a voice that no human throuat could utter began speaking with her mouth. "THE ONE WITH THE power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies"

Harry sat there stunnned. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but was unable to form a coherent enough thought to actually say anything.

Dumbledore saw this, and reached out with an arm to draw him close. "My boy, I know it is hard. Yes, you have been singled out by fate, to be the counter to this great foe. And so far, you have fulfilled the prophesy not once... but twice."

"Twice?" asked Harry, leaning into the older man for support.

"Yes, dear boy. Once, when your mother and father's love caused Voldemort's killing curse to backfire upon him. And now, again, when he soughtto return in Professor Quirrell's body." He got off the bed, and knelt down in front of Harry. "I must warn you, that it is likely he shall possibly find another way to return. As the prophesy stands, only you can defeat him if he does so. But, the prophesy does not state that you must do so alone."

Harry slowly looked his beloved 'grandpa' in the eye. "So...I have to either be a victim... or a murderer."

The old wizard sighed. "No, Harry, a murderer is one thing you shall never be. The first time, when you 'vanquished him', it was hisown actions that led to his body's death, not yours. From now on, no matter how he returns, he shall not truly be alive. He is what we call 'undead', and even if he regains a body, he shall still be an unnatural thing, not a living being.

"That night so many years ago, should have been the night of his true death. Somehow, he cheated that fate, and sought to return. He is what we term a liche, a thing of pure evil. Were you to finally destroy him for good, then you would not have committed murder. You will instead have lain an errant soul to his well-deserved rest, and restored the natural order of things."

"Then... when he possessed Quirrell..." started Harry.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Like I said some weeks ago, Quirrel's body became something other than human when he was possessed. No matter how evil the man, he should not have burned at your touch unless he, too, had become a thing of undeath. You must kill Voldemort, yes, but it is already done. You did it simply by existing, and he slew himself. Now all that must be done is the job must be finished. And you have time for that, do not worry. You will have time to learn and grow, I beleive, before you must face that spectre again."

zzzzzzz

Diagon Alley was everything Harry had remembered, but tainted by the pall that still remained in his heart after hearing the prophesy. No one seemed to notice hs unusual reticence except for Ron, who merely gave him the odd glance, and Ginny. Ginny confused him slightly. When she was still sqeuaking and hiding, like she had been up until the fateful Quidditch game, he could think of her as Ron's little sister - a cute little girl, waay to young to be anything but Ron's Sister. Cute the way a puppy is cute, not the way a girl his own age would be cute. Over the past few weeks, though, she had been bolder. Not very much so, but enough that she could actually hold her own in a conversation with Harry and her brothers. She would occasionally join Harry and Ron for a game of Go or for Wizard's chess, and the two of them together coud actually give Ron a bit of a challenge at either game.

Most of the visit was a bit of a blur until they reached Flourish and Blotts. There, they encountered Draco and his father, Lucius. Arthur Weasley actually came to blows in the store, attracting the attention of Sirius Black, who escorted the Malfoys out of the store in his office as an Auror. Out of curiosity, Harry, Ron, and Ginny stayed near the door, to hear what was said between the two.

"Black... it doesn't surprise me at all that the most notorious blood traitor of all would stand up for that muggle-loving fool," snarled the platinum haired wizard.

Sirius frowned, himself."I heard what you called him, Lucky Lucy. And I agree with him. Some of us have different ideas what a 'disgrace to Wizarding Kind' is."

Malfoy shook his head. "How low the House of Black has fallen, Cousin. First Andromeda, and now you."

"I'd watch what you say about Andromeda," warned Sirius. "And I think I should let you know, I've got my eye on you. If anything happens that's got your... mark... on it, I'll come down on you like a Hungarian Horntail."

Lucious instinctively started to reach for his left arm, but stopped himself. "Come, Draco," he ordered. He turned, a mass of swirling capes, and left, with Sirius watching his every move.

Harry bolted out of the store once the Malfoys were gone. "Awesome, Uncle Sirius! But what were you doing here, anyway?"

As the Weasleys joined them, Sirius grinned. "Arresting your prospective Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher about half an hour ago, actually," he said. "Turns out Gilderoy Lockhart was an old fraud, and would obliviate fellow wizards and claim to have accomplished what they did."

Molly Weasley raised a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my word. Is that why his books weren't available? But who ever shall teach the class, now? And what books should we get the children?"

Sirius started whistling, and looking around, kicking at the ground. "Oh, I don't know, I'm sure Dumbledore will find someone to teach." He then grinned and winked at them. "As for what book to get, I'd suggest Tertium Organum, by Ouspensky. The Dumbledore translation, of course."

All the kids grinned at him, bursting with questions, but also guessing who Dumbledore probably had gotten for the DADA teacher. "This year is gonna be so COOL!" blurted Ron.

"Now, now, off you go," insisted Sirius. "And keep any guesses to yourself, okay?"

zzzzzzz

The wall at King's Cross between platforms 9 and 10 stared evilly at Ron and Harry. Moments before, the combined Weasley clan had swiftly passed through, leaving the two boys as the last ones out of all the Hogwarts students to pass through. Unfortunately... the wall had somehow become quite solid. The impact had rattled their teeth, and Ron had slipped in a puddle and landed, quite badly, on his wand, which snapped cleanly in half. Their only saving grace was the fact that their luggage carts had already been taken through by their parents.

"Oh, Merlin, Harry, what are we going to do?" moaned Ron.

Harry racked his brain, then grinned broadly. "Well, we DO know someone else that is going to be going to Hogwarts today, you know."

His best friend returned the grin. "Well, whaddya know, you're right. We don't need Herione for ideas, now, do we? But, wait, how are we going to get in touch with him?"

Pointing at a muggle device on the wall, Harry simply said, "The telephone, of course." He walked over to the wall, dug out a couple of muggle coins from his pocket, dropped them in the slot, and started dialing.

Many miles away, a man with bright eyes and long black hair picked up the receiver of his own phone. "Hello?"

"Uncle Sirius, it's Harry! Ron and I need some help!"

Sirius blinked. "Harry?" He glanced at a clock on the wall. "Shouldn't you boys be on the Hogwarts Express right about now?"

"Well, we would have been, except the wall between 9 and 10 suddenly became just that - a real wall." Harry rubbed his nose, which still ached, then remembered Sirius couldn't see that over the phone. "Since you're going to Hogwarts too, can you give us a lift?"

"Err... of course. Wait there, I'll be right over on the bike. With a sidecar for Ron."

zzzzzzz

It only took Sirius fifteen minutes to dress and get his bike and sidecar, then another ten to reach King's Cross station. Ron and harry admired the famous motorbike, before harry jumped on the back and started putting on his helmet. Sirius helped Ron climb in, and showed him how to put on his own helmet.

"You know, you kids are lucky I already sent my things on ahead. You see, it only takes this baby a couple of hours to reach Hogwarts from here, so we can spend a little time in Diagon Alley," said the older man, grinning.

"Good. Ron seems to have had an accident with his wand," chuckled Harry.

"What? Oh, good grief. Then that means our first stop is Olivander's place."

Ron shrugged, and looked at his hands. "I dunno about that, Sirius. I can't afford to get a new one. Maybe i could just spellotape it together."

Sirius shot him a hard look. "None of that, Mr. Weasley. You need a proper wand to go through class. You try to use that thing, and you'll probably end up belching up slugs before the term is out."

The redheaded boy turned somewhat green. "Then what am I going to do?"

Sirius grinned. "Ron, I am the sole heir to the Most Noble and Ancient house of Black, remember? Let's call it a long-term loan. VERY long term. And I want you to pay me back with one Chocolate Frog a week for the rest of the term."

"Umm... okay," stuttered Ron. "Wow... my very own wand for the first time," he breathed, half to himself.

Sirius was lucky he had reached a stoplight. His head swiveled to look at Ron suddenly. "You mean you levitated a troll's own club with a wand that didn't choose you?" he demanded.

Ron blanched. "Did... did I do something wrong, Sirius?"

Harry bit back a laugh at his friend's expression. Sirius glanced back at him, then looked at Ron. "Ron, you shouldn't have been able to do that. A wizard using a wand that hadn't chosen him usually has only a /fraction/ of his normal power, depending on how close to his own the 'borrowed' wand is."

Harry pointed up. "Uncle Sirius, the light's green." And with that, they took off for Diagon Alley.

zzzzzzz

Harry and Ron stood with Sirius at the Hogsmeade train station. Ron was still quite red in the face from the cold cloud they had flown through, but he was grinning for all he was worth. "That was BRILLIANT, Sirius!" he exclaimed.

"Ah, ah, Professor Black, now, Ron. Got to get into practice," corrected the new professor.

Harry laughed. "Don't I know it. And you were only in the sidecar. Trust me, it's LOADS better on the bike itself. I've been riding on that thing for as long as I can remember, though we never flew until a couple of years ago."

A booming voice interrupted them. "Now, tha's not quite true, 'Arry. Why, we flew when you were a little babe, an' I was takin' ye to yer Aunt an' Uncle's place."

"Hagrid!" cried the boys, and they rushed over to give the groundskeeper a somewhat manly hug. Or as manly as they could give him since they could only reach his tree-trunk thighs.

"So, what are you lot doing here instead of riding the Express, eh?" asked the half-giant.

Sirius explained, and the foursome traded stories for the next half-hour, until the train rolled in.

zzzzzzz

The sorting ceremony was quite different for the boys when watching from the outside than it had been on the inside. They cheered their fool heads off when Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor, and on her way to her seat she gave both of them high fives. Then came the feast, and the boys soon forgot everything except the wonderful food.

After the feast, Sirius was announced, and the children sent to bed. Ah, yes, they could all just FEEL that it was going to be an exciting year to come.

If they had known just HOW exciting, they may have wished they stayed home that year...(End of Chapter)...Now for the reviews:

warra:  
Actually, Ginny's not quite a seer. Exactly why she's had dreams of "mainstream" Harry will be explained later. And since they're just 'snapshots', certain events will STILL play out like they originally did.

ivan the terrable:  
Read my comment to warra. And thanks, I HOPE it's a good story.

Lady Lily3: Thanks! I hope you enjoy the rest, too. And is this soon enough?

RaeRoark:  
Hatred of certain characters usually isn't because of the characters themselves, but what we see them do. And litle choices open up whole new vistas, as we shall see.

Rose Richelieu: Soon enough, as I said:D

Phyre's child13:  
I'm updating as quick as I can, please bear with me.

Son Of Evil:  
Thank you. And yes, the brief snippets of what "would" be helped Ginny wash away any doubts she had. In Canon, she 'knew' it was just a dream, that Harry might be 'her hero', but the REAL boy, sitting across the table, might not have time for a 'silly little girl' like her. This, the squeaking and hiding. Even here, she had problems with squeaking and hiding, but is starting to fight it off. She knows it's too early for her to hope harry will feel anything for her, but she's content in the knowledge that while it may not be soon, and he may not choose her first, but he WILL choose he last.

Harry123Ginny:  
I'm glad you love it. Let me take a little bit of time to explain why everyone was different:

Harry made a heartfelt plea, a True Wish, that Vernon Dursley had been a better man. One of the Powers That Be heard this wish, and decided to let it come true. He was sent back to life, at a critical point, and gently prodded to make a critical decision. He decided at his wedding that family was more important than public opinion, due to this prodding. So, he tried to befriend Lily and her then fiance James. In doing so, he learned about the Magical world, and his eyes were opened to the fact that they were just ordinary people with lives like muggles, just separate because of their abilities. He also learned the Potters were an ancient and respected family in that world (he STILL had some shreds of seeking 'respectability', which were still being eroded away at this point).

In my opinion, the canon Vernon's hatred of magic stems from the same place most prejudices stem from in reality - ignorance. He didn't know what it was, what it could do, or what its weilders were like, and like most men, feared what he did not understand. Yoda is partially correct, fear leads to hate. And hate leads to intolerance and prejudice, a very prominant theme in JKR's work. Why do Death Eaters and others of their ilk hate muggle-borns and halfbloods? Because they do not understand muggles, therefore fear and hate them, and consider a wizard from a muggle family to be a horrendous insult. Much like if, in 1950's USA, an African-American couple had suddenly produced a white child. That child would be hated and despised by groups like the KKK, because a supposedly "inferior" couple had produced a child who was just like them.

Without his ignorance, the fear and hatred had no seed to sprout from. The decision to choose to get close to his new family meant that he saw Harry, for example, the way he saw all infants - a miracle of nature. This wasn't a 'freak', it was the beautiful baby boy of his sister-in-law and her husband. Whether or not the child ended up with the gift of Magic, Vernon would think of Harry first as the baby boy his own son played with in the cradle.

Since THIS version of Vernon had become close friends with the Marauders, he probably would have found SOME way to let Sirius and Remus visit the boy, even if Dumbledore refused. By pretending to be muggles, they managed to persuade Albus to let them stay a part of his life, probably under the pretense of "protecting" him. This would lead Albus to pay closer attention to Harry, himself. As we know from Canon, one of Harry's greatest strengths is his capacity to love. If that capacity had been nurtured in a loving home, instead of suppressed as it was, I have no doubt, Albus would not have been able to resist returning the affection when a three or four year old toddler with bright green eyes and messy hair he remembered all too well snuggled into his arms, calling him 'Grandpa Albus'. Think about it, could you?

As for Dudley and Petunia, Dudley grew up in a home where people actually cared about each other, not about how others viewed them. He saw the smaller boy being treatd with love, and he himself was showered with affection by his father, and 'uncles'. He may still be a bit of a brute, but by being given proper attention and not merely spoiled, his heart ended up in the right place. Vernon's insistance on getting to know his inlaws helped Petunia, as well... being in close proximity to her enabled her to finally hash things out with Lily. The close relationship between their infant sons merely sealed the last remaining gaps between them.

Without the central sources of bitterness (Petunia's jealousy and Vernon's prejudice),the Dursleys were able to act without fear of ostracization. And having good friends, and the loving examples of Lily and James, they found themselves better able to express how they felt, especially towards one another. The final result is a more stable home, with discipline butlove, and the nearly ideal home for both Dudley and Harry to grow up in.

Does this answer your question? 


	8. Chapter 8: Chamber of Secrets III

A/N:  
And still more events of Second Year... As usual, if I don't mention it not happening, or happening differently, assume things went as they did in the books.

Disclaimer: GAWD, I wish. Then I'd be rich.

zz

Chamber of Secrets III

zz

"I don't care if that mongrel of a Godfather of yours is a teacher, now, Mr. potter! This is MY classroom, and I do NOT tolerate tardiness! Fifty points from Gryffindor!" shouted Serverus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry sighed, and schlepped over to his seat. He had stepped in the door only half a second after the bell that signified the start of class, but that meant little to Snape, who was apparantly already in rare form.

To his shock, Draco Malfoy then walked in the room, arrogant as always, and VERY late. Snape turned his head sharply to glare at him. "Tardiness! From my own house! Ten points, Mr. Malfoy!" he growled.

The room fell quiet in shock. Not that he had docked Gryffindor more than Slytherin, but that he had docked Slytherin points at all. Whatever was eating at the man had certainly gotten to him in ways not even Harry Potter usually could. They nervously began to set out their supplies for the day, and waited for Snape to tell them what to do.

The Potions master swept around the room, a tall slender shadow with black eyes under a stormy brow. Seeing nobody moving, except for the occasional flinch, he swept back through them towards the front of the class. "Do any of you have more brainpower than a dung flea? Your assignment is on the board, get working! Five points from BOTH houses!" he roared.

The rest of the class passed in silence, except for the noise of children counting to themselves as they stirred their potions, and the unfortunate detonation of Gregory Goyle's cauldron, shortly followed by an almost unintelligable stream of invectives from Snape. Oh, and the loss of fifteen more points from Slytherin.

zzzzzzz

"MERLIN, he's in a foul one," exclaimed Ron as soon as the gryffindors left their Potions class.

"I bet it has to do with Uncle Sirius," grinned Harry.

Hermione stayed silent, her face pale, and nodded as each of the boys spoke. Soon, they had reached their next class, which was Transfiguration with Hufflepuff. She followed them into the room, and quickly went to her seat, and sat down. Once she was in her pre-determined spot, she nearly folded over with a huge sigh, almost like someone had let the air out of her.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," she answered. "But I think I might have been a little intimidated by Professor Snape. And if he's angry, I am not certain what kind of mood Professor McGonagall is going to be in."

Before anyone could answer her, the aforementioned Transfiguration teacher swept into the room, her elegant black robes flowing with her movements. This set off warning bells in the minds of the students, as her movements were almost never what could be termed 'sweeping'. She was graceful, yes, but it was a precise, economical grace. "Good morning, class!" she called out. Those with the presence of mind to make the connection realized to their confusion that her eyes were sparkling today, much like the Headmaster's would on occasion.

The entire class period was as different from their previous period as night and day. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were awarded points right and left with a smile, even five points for Neville managing to turn the pile of acidic goo that had once been the thimble for today's class into something a bit more inert. Incredibly malodorous, and likely god on a variety of plants, but more inert.

Lunch came swiftly after, and the Golden Trio went to their table chatting among themselves at a feverish rate. "I tell you, something happened between Snape and Sirius! And I say Professor McGonagall saw it, that''s why she's in such a good mood!" insisted Ron.

"Professor Snape and Professor Black," absentmindedly corrected Hermione. "Whether something happened or not, it's between them. They're faculty, after all, and we're students."

As they ate, Harry glanced up at the head table. By tradition, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was always seated next to the Potions Instructor. However, tradition was not followed this day, and likely wouldn't for the rest of the term. Instead, Professor McGonagall sat between Sirius and Snape. Harry guessed this was to prevent any further altercations... assuming there had already been one, that is.

All of the tables were abuzz with discussion, and many pairs of eyes glanced the same way Harrys did. Knowing he was the center of attention without even having taught a class yet, Sirius simply looked out onto the sea of students, and waved, smiling. Snape, on the other hand, glared furiously at his lunch as if he could force it to transmogrify into the face of the DADA teacher, and began stabbing at it with his fork.

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It was eight o'clock in the evening, and the gryffindor Common Room was relatively empty. Most ere either in the library, or otherwise elsewhere. However, the Golden Trio sat in the small nook of armchairs and a loveseat that they had claimed as 'theirs' shortly after Halloween of the previous year. They chatted, and joked, and worked on their homwork. Well, Hermione mostly worked on homework, and Harry and Ron mostly chatted and joked.

The sound of the portrait creaking open drew their eyes to the portal, and they saw Sirius clamber in. "Hiya, Pup! Hey there, Ron, Hermione! How was class?"

"Memorable, to say the least, Uncl...err, Professor Black," replied harry with a wry grin.

"Aaah, yes," replied his Godfather, a grin slowly spreading across his features. He joined them in their corner, and hunched over towards them conspiratorially. "I'm willing to bet that it has something to do with the fact that Professor Snape's personal quarters have somehow found themselves redecorated in varying shades of purple and bright orange. It's old, and a bit cliche, but I think that as long as you vary the colors, it never really does get THAT old."

Hermione gasped, at either what had happened to a teacher's quarters or the color choice, Harry wasn't sure. He himself grinned a slightly evil grin, and Ron was fighting to hold back laughter. "Oh," said Harry, "and I'm CERTAIN it wasn't any member of the faculty who managed this feat of redecoration, was it?"

Sirius's face showed a bit of honest shock for a moment. "You mean that it wasnt you?" he asked, confusion showing in his eyes.

Ron and Harry shook their heads, while Hermione whispered conspiratorially, "It wasn't Harry or Ron. I don't think Harry's gotten much of anything out of his trunk, yet, let alone his... ahem... cloak."

Sirius then spread his gaze over the room, apparantly not seeing who he was looking for. "Well, damn," he muttered. "Okay, anyway, if you DO know or find out who did it, tell 'em Padfoot gives 'em a cheer, okay?"

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The next several weeks were filled with the usual mixture of nervousness, laughter, and meals that one would expect. However, the culprit behind the pranking of Snape's quarters finally revealed themselves in secret to Sirius - none other than the Weasley Twins, Fred and George. Harry, Ron, and Hermione soon found out as well, and settled in as spectators to one of the more spectacular friendly 'duels' that Hogwarts had ever seen. Namely, an all-out prank war between Padfoot and the Weasley Twins.

Oh, they weren't pranking each other, that would be rude. No, they were pranking the Slytherins... and Snape, especially.

Right as the Prank War reached its peak, a frightening event happened. Racing down the corridor to be in time to witness the latest prank, Harry nearly ran into Mr. Filch. "You thought you could get away, did you! After what you did! AFTER WHAT YOU DID!" he yelled.

Harry was terrified. He had never seen Filch in such a towering rage like this. The squib was shaking with pent-up fury, and his eyes were burning red, almost like he was crying. Filch grabbed his arms and started shaking Harry. "You'll pay for what you did! You'll pay, I swear it!"

"Release him at once, Argus!" demanded a clear voice from behind Harry. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he saw Minerva McGonagall storming down the hall towards them. Behind her were Sirius, Snape, and Professor Dumbledore. "I am CERTAIN he had nothing to do with this!"

"With what?" asked a puzzled Harry.

"Never mind, Harry," said Sirius. "Just get on back to your comon room." A look in his eyes let Harry know they'd discuss it later, so Harry simply nodded. Filch reluctantly let him go, and he raced back to the seventh floor corridor and Gryffindor tower.

The news soon raced across the school. Mrs Norris, Filch's cat, had been found petrified and hanging from a torch sconce, next to words painted on the damp corridor walls: "The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened". Rumors flew as to who the Heir of Slytherin might be, and untrusting eyes glanced at almost everyone. However, most of those eyes tended to rest on one Draco Malfoy.

The shocking turn of events prematurely ended the prank war. It was decided by a panel of impartial judges (Ron, Harry, and Hermione) that the winning prank was one of Sirius's. It was of course, hard to top, extremely complex, and involved six tubs of whipped cream, forty yards of burlap, and two life-sized animated inflatable sheep. Oh, and the Slytherin Common Room, of course.

The Golden Trio did their own investigations involving stolen hairs, Polyjuice Potion, and a brief stint for Hermione in the Hospital Ward with hairballs, only to discover Malfoy was not, in fact, the heir of Slytherin.

Other events began to happen as well. A rogue bludger nearly killed Harry, and succeeded in managing to shatter his right arm... though he caught the snitch, anyway. Sirius conjured a splint for him, and carefully helped him to Madame pomfrey, who fixedhim up as good as new, thankfully. That night he encountered the mysterious Dobby once again, who had apparantly pressed his hands with an iron.

As the year progressed, more and more petrifications occurred. Nearly Headless Nick was even disrupted, blasted temporarily into a ghostly state that approximated a coma. The Bloody Baron assured everyone that Sir Nicholas would recover by midsummer, but that left the rest of the school worrying about the victims, including Colin Creevey, and...

... And Hermione Granger.

Hagrid was blamed for having opened the chamber, thanks to the common beleif he had opened it fifty years prior. Harry and Ron, desparate to prove their friend innocent, followed his advice to 'follow the spiders'. They ended up in an acromantula nest, learning that hagrid was indeed innocent, but only escaping with their lives thanks to the the timely help of Sirius.

The last straw, however, was when little Ginny Weasley vanished, and the writing returned to the walls, saying "Her bones shall lie in the Chamber forever"

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Harry was feeling guilty. EXTREMELY guilty. He had made a point to himself to get to know Ginny as a friend, so she wouldn't feel left out, and he had forgotten about it completely with first the prank war, and then the incidents dealing with the Heir of Slytherin. He cursed to himself as he and Ron sat next to a petrified Hermione, when he noticed a piece of paper balled up in her hand. He carefully extracted it, and unrolled it, showing it to Ron.

"A basilisk! That's how! Nobody ever got a clear look at it, so they didn't actually die!" exclaimed Ron.

"And Nearly Headless Nick is already dead, he can't die again!" added Harry. The answer to how the creature moved around silently through the halls was also found on that page. "The pipes! Of course!"

Harry kept the fact that he could hear the titanic serpent speaking through the walls a secret. Only Sirius knew, and he had impressed upon Harry the need to do so.

One clue seemed to open up another, and they soon found themselves in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry hissed at the sink she pointed at, and it opened up to reveal the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

The scene that followed was almost like the ending of a fairy tale - a horrific fairy tale. Harry managed to defeat the shade of Riddle, however, and even slew the fearsome Basilisk with help from Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, and the swordof Gryffindor, drawn from the Sorting hat. In the proccess, his guilt roared back to life, as he found out that Ginny had resorted to the diary because she was feeling alone, and rejected by her brother and his friends.

He also learned that she had been having occasional flashes of dreams about him. When he learned that she had a crush on him, he was startled, but oddly not surprised. It did, after all, explain much of the squeaking and hiding.

After the rescue, Harry met with Dumbledore in his office, but they were interrupted by Lucius Malfoy... and Dobby the House Elf. A careles gesture from Lucius gave Harry the opportunity to free Dobby, as well as gained the ire of the older Malfoy.

In the end, though only one thing kept returning in his mind. Ginny. More appropriately, how they had treated her through the year. Thoughts like these weighed on his mind as he and his friends boarded the train to leave Hogwarts.

zzzzzzz

Ron, Hermione, Harry, and ginny sat in their compartment quietly. Ron wouldn't look at his sister, and she wouldn't look at anyone. Both looked sad, as though something precious was lost, possibly forever. After nearly an hour of this, Harry couldn't take it anymore. He leaned over to Ron, and whispered something to him. Ron's eyes opened wide, and he gulped slightly. His eyes glanced towards Ginny... and he nodded slowly.

"Well, Hermione," said Harry perhaps a little louder than he intended. "Want to go track down the snack cart?"

Hermione glanced up in surprise. "But the cart will..." she began, until she saw Harry glance back and forth between Ron and Ginny, then at her. It was a mite obvious, but Ginny was a a bit too preoccupied to care, and Ron obviously already knew about it. "...probably be about three or four cars over. Sure, let's go."

As the door to their compartment closed behind them, Harry turned to Hermione. "Thanks. I think this will be good for both of them."

Rather than chase down the snack cart as they had claimed, Harry and Hermione simply sat in the next car and talked for a bit. It was surprisingly empty, save for a few sixth and seventh years at the other end of the car. "You know, there is STILL one mystery bugging me from the past year," said Harry after a while.

"And what's that?" asked Hermione."We know why Dobby did what he did, and why the chickens vanished, and why the spiders were afraid, and why... um... some of us were petrified. We even know who the Heir of Slytherin is."

Harry chuckled. "Ah, but this is the greatest mystery of all, Hermione."

"Well, out with it!" she demanded, fidgeting in her seat. A good mystery or problem always excited her.

"Why, when you were cured, did you run up and give me a big hug... but stopped, stammered, and blushed when faced with Ron?" he asked, a smile barely hidden.

Hermione stopped, stared, stammered, and blushed, though not quite in that order. "Well, I... um... I realized how... how uncomfortable public hugging was, umm, when I hugged you," she finally said.

It was all Harry could do to keep from laughing. "Ah, that explains why you wereone of the first to jump up and hug Hagrid when he walked in shortly after you, too, eh?"

Fish. That was the only word Harry would ever use in the future to describe the look on Hermione's face at that momemnt. She had gone from scarlet to white in a heartbeat, and her mouth opened and closed. Oddly, no sound came out for almost a minute, before she managed a faint squeak.

"Well," quipped Harry, "and here I thought only Ginny squeaked. You do know she squeaked because she had a crush on me, right?"

"Has," corrected Hermione without thinking, then turned scarlet again. "Don't you DARE tell him!" she demanded. "I would just DIE!"

Laughing out loud, Harry did what he could to recover, and looked at the girl he thought of as a surrogate sister. "Don't worry, Hermione. But I hope you're patient. He's about as thick as a brick."

Hermione growled. "Don't I know it. Well, I think we've given them enough time, don't you?" she asked.

"Absolutely. And if they ask, we'll say we couldn't find it, and it must have been on the other end of the train."

Harry never did find out what passed between Ron and Ginny that day, and he really didn't want to know. All he knew was that when he opened the door and walked in, Ron was hugging her fiercely. Looking over her shoulder directly at Harry, and faintly smiling, he said, "Don't worry, Gin. I'll never forget about you again."

Taking their cue, Harry and Hermione flanked Ron, and added their arms to his around Ginny. "And neither will we," said Hermione.

The redheaded girl glanced up at the three of them, her gaze pausing on Harry. Meeting her eyes, he added, "Never again, Ginny. You're one of us, after all."

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(end chapter)

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And to my reviewers:

athenakitty:  
Hmm, that's a good question. In emotional ways, this harry is more open and understanding. But he still feels the need to protect others, which may... well, we'll see.

PlatinumRoseLady:  
Why, thank you! To be honest, I'm right now just exploring small areas where things would have been different. But moderately soon, things will veer further and further away from canon...

Phyre's child13:  
Heh, yeah, I couldn't stand Lockhart, either...

jouve25:  
Well, here's more:D

warra: I guess I glossed over it. Basically, if i don't mention an event NOT happening, you can probably expect it DID happen. So yes, she has his diary (it's an event needed further in the story)

Harry123Ginny:  
Don't apologize for laziness, we all get that way. And I'm glad it helped!

Lady Lily3:  
As I told warra, if I don't mention it NOT happening, or tell a different version of events, it probably DID happen.And now that Sirius is there, expect some fireworks between him and Snape. :D

Shadow101:  
Yes, this is true. I HAVE been following Harry more. That's because until I really veer off (relatively soon), we have to see how Vernon affected Harry. There will be more Vernon in later chapters.

Son Of Evil:  
Thanks! 


	9. Chapter 9: Prisoner of Azkhaban I

A/N: I'm shocked nobody asked about Sirius's triumphant prank involving six tubs of whipped cream, forty yards of burlap, and two life-sized animated inflatable sheep. Oh, and the Slytherin Common Room, of course. Then again, I really can't think of anything that would properly require all of that. Can anyone out there?

Disclaimer: JKR, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving children of all ages, 3-93, your express permission to enjoy themselves in the world of your creations.

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Chapter 9: The Prisoner of Azkhaban pt I

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Harry sat on his bed, staring at his textbook. He knew he was supposed to write a report for professor Binns about how witch burnings in the Middle Ages were a waste of time, but his heart wasn't in it. Who cared if being 'burned' actually tickled, or that Wendelyn the Weird (an appropriate name) had enjoyed it so darn much!

A voice came from outside the door. "Harry, I don't hear your quill. Aren't you doing your homework?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, Aunt Petunia, I'm doing it." He then began grumbling to himself. Fortunately, this was his last essay to finish.

While his family had been overjoyed to see he survived nearly unhurt, and all concerned were incredibly proud of his courage, tenacity, loyalty, and many other virtues involved in saving Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets, they were also angry. QUITE angry, in fact. And while he wasn't used to it, it was something he grudgingly understood. He had rushed off, Ron in tow, without notifying anyone, not even Uncle Sirius, who was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at the time.

To make matters worse, when the parents of OTHER kids in the school had found out that Sirius had "allowed" Harry to fight a basilisk, they began screaming to the Board of Governors. While they, themselves, found absolutely no fault in his actions, they had no choice but to request that he return to his previous position as an Auror.

So, here Harry sat, grounded. No television, no muggle radio, no Wizarding Wireless, no Owl Post, and no telephone until his homework was complete, AND he had written letters of apology to Dumbledore, Sirius, his Head of House Professor McGonagall, and Mr and Mrs Weasley (for bringing Ron into it). His only consolation was the fact that he knew Ron was very likely grounded as well.

About that time, he heard a phone ring, and the heavy foosteps of his jocular Uncle Vernon trodding across the floor below. "Vernon Dursley," he answered. Harry, meanwhile, poked his head around the bend in the stairs to watch out of boredom.

"HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I - WANT - TO - TALK - TO - HARRY - POTTER!"

Poor Ron had apparantly gotten off his own grounding, and was yelling so loudly into the phone that Uncle vernon had to hold it a foot away from his ear. Harry stifled a giggle as he watched what would happen.

"Who is this?" demanded Vernon. "Please do NOT yell, my hearing is fine and dandy, thank you!"

"OH, SORRY, SIR!" continued Ron at a lower yet still excessive volume. "IT'S RON WEASLEY - YOU REMEMBER, HARRY'S FRIEND FROM SCHOOL!"

"Young man, I realize most wizards have never used a telephone before, but PLEASE! Speak in a conversational tone, you need not yell!" Uncle vernon rubbed his forehead with one meaty hand, then grinned at Harry and rolled his eyes. "Now, I am sorry, young Mr. Weasley, but Harry is still grounded. He still has one essay to complete, and several letters to write, before his grounding ends."

"Oh..." Rons voice was far more normal now, and held more than a hint of embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry for yelling, sir. And I guess I'll just wait for him to come ungrounded, I guess."

"That would be excellent." Vernon sighed and smiled. "And by the way - congratulations on your own show of bravery last month. It takes a special young man to be willing to face a monster for the sake of anyone, even his own sister. And I'm certain that had it not been for the accidental rockslide that separated the two of you, you would have been right beside him, fighting the beast."

"Err... umm... thank you, Mr. Dursley. I'll call back later. Umm, goodbye!"

Harry looked up at his uncle. "Umm... Uncle Vernon... I only have a little bit left to do... can I at least send a letter or two out?"

"I am sorry, Harry, but when I say something, I stick to it. You know that. Now get back to your room, and finish that essay."

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The day after Harry had finally finished writing all of his homework assignments and his apology letters felt like Independance Day to Harry. it may have been a Yank holiday, he mused, but it was highly appropriate. His first task was to write yet ANOTHER letter - this one to Ron and Ginny, colectively. This one was short and sweet, however.

Guys,

I'm FREEEEEE!

- Harry

After tying it to Hedwig's leg, and an affectionate nip on his ear, he sent her off to deliver the letter. Then, he marched downstairs, and picked up the telephone receiver, dialing hermione's number.

"Granger Residence," answered an older male voice.

"Doctor Granger, this is Harry Potter, a friend of Hermione's from school. May I speak to her, please?" he asked.

"Why, certainly," answered hermione's father. Harry heard him calling for her, then a few moments of silence, then soft thudding like someone running.

"Harry, how ARE you?" asked Hermione.

"Hello, Hermione. And I'm FREEEEE! I just got un-grounded!"

"Harry, that's WONDERFUL!" she enthused. "Honestly, at least this means you already have your Summer assignments finished."

"Yeah, I do. So..." Harry fought to keep his voice neutral, and not to tease her with his next statement. "Spoken to Ron lately?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" she replied with another question. "It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Weasleys won seven hundred Galleons in the Daily Prophet Draw this morning! They are planning to go to Egypt and visit Bill, You remember, he's the oldest brother, the curse breaker with Gringotts down there."

"That's wonderful! Hold on a sec!" He put one hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, and called into the den."Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia!"

His tall, slender aunt and portly uncle came ambling in. "What is it, Harry?" asked Vernon.

"The Weasleys just won a LOT of money in a big Draw! They're going to Egypt for the summer!" he gushed.

"That''s wonderful!" said Aunt Petunia, unconsciously echoing her nephew's earlier statement. "And I can't think of anyone who deserves it more! Is that them?"

"No, Aunt Petunia, it's Hermione. I just wanted to let you know." Turning his attention back to the phone,he continued. "Sorry, had to tell my family."

"I understand. But you should have heard Ron's voice when he flooed me!" she gushed.

"Floo? You're on the floo network now?" he asked.

"Yes, but communication only. Dad decided that since most of my friends are guys, he didn't want one 'secretly' coming over in the middle of the night." He could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "Asif I would even begin to condone that."

"Of course. There's no WAY you'd be happy if, oh, I dunno, RON suddenly popped in to sweep you off your feet, eh?" he teased.

"HARRY!" she nearly shreiked.

"Heyhey, Hermione, just a joke. Well, since Ron is going to be out of the country for most of the summer, what are you doing on July 31? I'm certain you'd beinvited to my birthday party again."

"Umm... about that..." began Hermione. "Harry, my parents were frightened by me being petrified this year. They want to spend some... err... quality time with me."

"Oh?"

"Yes. We're going on holiday to France in three days. But don't worry, you'll hear from me, at least!"

Harry felt his heart sink a little. Neither of his best friends... NONE of his best friends, he corrected himself as he remembered Ginny and his promise, were going to be there for his birthday. "I understand," he said, even as he relly didn't. "I hope you enjy it! And when you're on those beaches, try NOT to picture the men you see walking past with red hair and freckles."

"Oh, you!" There was a brief sigh. "Harry, I'm really, really sorry I'm not going to be there. I love you like a brother, and I want to see you happy."

Harry blushed, and his cousin Dudley chose that minute to walk in. "I... I... I guess I love you like a sister, come to think of it." A small smile crept up his face. "I'll see you guys when you get back, okay?"

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Harry's birthday was the same as it usually was before he went to Hogwarts, but his heart just wasn't in his party. He loved the gifts they had sent - a pocket sneakoscope from Ron and Ginny, and a broomstick servicing kit from Hermione - but without them actually there, it just wasnt quite the same.

That evening, he looked in his mirror, glad that muggle mirrors did not chime in with opinions. In his own eyes, he saw a slightly short, thin boy, with scraggly hair and an ugly scar on his head. Hemay not have been totally scrawny, but he felt it. For that matter he felt totally alone.

A voice shook him out of his reverie. "Harry, do you remember the Mirror of Erised?"

Surprised, Harry spun around so fast he fell flat on his rear end. There, facing him, was... "Grandpa Albus!"

"Yes, my boy. Now, you only encountered it when you rescued the Philosopher's Stone a year ago. But let me tell you of its true power, and its true danger." Albus Dumbledore decided to join his young protege on the floor, rather than help the boy up. "Under normal circumstances, anyone who gazes into the Mirror of Erised sees not what is there, but what his heart's desire is. Only a man who is utterly and perfectly happy with who he is and what he has would be able to see only himself."

Harry whistled."Wow, that is pretty powerful. But why is it dangerous?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Harry, many a wizard and witch have wasted away, staring into the Mirror. The desire for what they see there becomes stronger than any other want or need. and they simply lose all drive to do anything anymore."

Harry shuddered. "But why? I mean, it should show you what you want, so now tht you know, you go out and try to earn it."

"You are indeed a brilliant boy," beamed Dumbledore. "But what if it issomething you can never have? For example, let us say a young lad like you, who has suffered the tragic loss of his parents, was raised in an orphanage instead of a loving home. What would he see in the mirror?"

"His... his parents," whispered the boy,face slowly turning white. "And... and since nothing can bring them back..."

"Precisely. He becomes caught up in the dream of having parents, of what his life would have been like.had he been raised by them." The old man sighed, and put his arm around Harry, drawing him close. "You are far luckier than you realize, dear boy. You grew up in a comfortable home, with people who love you and care for you. That is a treasure. Vernon and Petunia may not be your blood parents, but they could love you no more if you were their own, nor any less than James and Lily did. I suspect that while you might see your parents in that mirror, the draw just would not be there. Just remember - it does not do to dwell in dreams, and forget to live."

"Grampa Albus... have you ever looked in the Mirror of Erise?"

Dumbeldore smiled, eyes twinkling. "That I did, harry. I had to, after all, while setting it up to protect the Stone."

"What did you see?"

"Socks," came the answer with a grin. "Thick, woolen socks. My circulation isn't what it used to be, and nobody gives this tired old man socks for his birthday or Christmas anymore. Now be a good lad and help me up, my boy, these old bones are not what they used to be."

"Were they ever?" asked Harry cheekily.

"I'll have you know I was a star beater in Quidditch in my time as a student," snorted Dumbledore.

The two wandered downstairs, laughing and telling Quidditch stories as the night slowly lengthened into morning.

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"I KNOW she's your sister, Vernon, but I bloody well don't like her," insisted Aunt Petunia. "And that beast of a dog of hers, that thing should be put down!"

Vernon Dursley looked at his wife and sighed. Family was something that had become very important to him, and that included his own family as well as his wife's. "Please, Pet. I've been doing what I can to help her drop those... odd beleifs of hers. I'm certain if she visited, and actually MET Harry now that he's grown up a bit, Marge would see the error of her ways."

Harry happened to hear the conversation, and shuddered. The last time he had seen his Aunt Marge was seven years ago. He had been only five or six, and she had set a young bulldog on him once she had heard his name. The result was hours of fierce arguing between Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge, and more than a couple nightmares about massive dogs wanting to chew his legs off.

Sure enough, that evening, the doorbell rang. Petunia got up to answer it, and stiffened when she opened the door. it was her.

Aunt Marge was a large woman. Not quite as large as Uncle Vernon, but very close. She even had a hint of Uncle Vernon's mustache. Under one arm was tucked a rather large and ugly bulldog, with a ludicrously cute pink ribbon tied in a bow on its collar. "Good evening, Petunia. I am here as vernon asked."

"Then do come in," replied Aunt Petunia. Her voice could have frozen a lake, but Marge seemed to ignore it.

Harry did his best to be quiet and respectful to his Aunt Marge, for his uncle's sake. Dudley didn't care, as all he knew was this great smelly woman, his s-called Aunt, didn't like his cousin, so he didn't like her. Thus, dinner passed in a very cold and impersonal way.

As soon as it was over, Harry headed to his room, glad to be out of that torture chamber. But then he made the mistake of pausing when he heard angry voices in the kitchen. He took a step back, and started listening in.

"I told you neither one of those girls was any good, now didn't I, Vernon? And look how those two turned out! Milly's boy is a smirking, sarcastic layabout, and Petunia's is a blubbering lump without the sense God gave a turnip!" snarled Marge.

"I will not have you speak that way about my wife, son, nephew, or late sister in law, Marge! And her name was Lily!" Vernon's voice was a low growl.

Harry drew closer, not really wanting to, but not being able to resist, either.

"Milly, Lilly, whatever. Killed by gangsters, HA! I say they WERE gangsters, the lot of them!"

"You had BEST be glad you are my sister, after saying something like that!" said Vernon.

"Well, it MUST be true!" she roared. "Look at their son! It's one of the basic rules of breeding, you see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup..."

A glass in the sink exploded, shocking both of them. "It... it must have fallen from the counter into the sink," muttered Vernon.

"You never would even tell me what this James did for a living! He must have been unemployed - a great lazy layabout scrounger!" continued marge as if she hadn't even noticed.

"He was not!" said Harry suddenly, standing in the kitchen doorway.

"What nerve!" declared Aunt Marge. "You insolent little whelp! Your WORTHLESS parents went and got themselves killed, and left you to be a burden on your hardworking Uncle! You ungrateful little..."

Aunt Marge paused. As she slowly realized what it was that was bothering her, she also realized she was swelling. Considerably so, in fact. Her entire body swelled, until she resembled nothing so much as a giant balloon. As she started to float to the ceiling, the kitchen door burst open.

"Evening, pup, Vernon," said Sirius Black, as he entered with Remus Lupin. "Who's the floating salami, and since Harry is the only wizard here, how'd she piss him off?"

"She... She..." Vernon's face was nearly purple with anger, as he glared at his sister, and he found it hard to speak. "That's my sister, Marge, and I'll tell you later. Just deflate her, and get her and her mutt the HELL out of my house!"

Remus glanced at Harry, whose eyes were wide open in shock, still staring at his Aunt. "Looks like it''s one for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, then," muttered Remus.

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The next several hours were a mite hectic. The accidental Magic Reversal Squad did their work quickly, and Marge left after having been obliviated of the incident. However, Remus and Sirius had brought bad news with them.

"Peter's escaped," said Remus.

"From Azkaban?" asked Harry, amazed. He had heard all about Azkaban the previous year, when Hagrid had been accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets. In the entire time it had been open, which was for many centuries, no one had ever escaped from there.

Vernon had paled. "There's... there's only one thing he'd be after then, wouldn't there be?" he asked.

Remus nodded. He started to step forward, as if to exclude Harry from what he was about to say, but decided against it, and looked directly at him. "Only one thing, yes. Revenge for the destruction of the Dark Lord.

"Revenge against Harry Potter."

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(End chapter)

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Ah, my reviewers:

Athenakitty:  
As w found out, it was the Twins, MWUAHAHAHAHA!

Son Of Evil:  
Dude, no matter HOW confident you are, love life is TOUGH for a boy who suddenly finds himself awash with the hormones of puberty... though, he MIGHT be able to deal with it better...

Phyre'schild13 and LadyLily3:  
As soon as I can. :D

PlatinumRoseLady:  
That was pretty much the idea. And remember... there IS a Prisoner in Azkhaban! Oh... and thanks for the roses and the daffodil:D 


	10. Chapter 10: Pris of Azkaban II

A/N: Nope, no Knight Bus sequence. He knew he wasn't going to get expelled thanks to Remus and Sirius, and thus no need to run away.

And STILL no one comes up with an idea as to what Sirius' crowning prank could have been? Pa-SHAW...

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Disclaimer: If JKR were 10 years younger, I'd definitely be considering it. ;)

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Prisoner of Azkaban II

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Harry Potter stood in Flourish and Blotts with his family and friends, laughing at the antics of the store owner as he tried to wrangle the rather savage copies of the Monster book of Monsters. Fortunately, Hagrid had given a copy to Harry as a birthday present, along with some delicious treacle fudge and inedible rock cakes, but neither Ron nor Hermione had a copy yet.

After nearly five minutes, including a rather harrowing moment when the shopkeeper nearly fell into the bin, he emerged with two tightly bound copies. Forcing a smile on his face, as he knew the children had nothing to do with the books' presence in his store, he added the grumbling books to their purchases.

Ron looked up at Sirius. "Professor Black," he began.

"Stop!" declared Sirius, standing straight upright and rock still, with a single finger in the air.

Everyone in the entire store suddenly froze. After all, if an auror makes a proclaimation like that, you listen to him. Nobody moved, not even (for a few moments at least) all the copies of the Monster Book Of Monsters in their bin.

After a few moments, Ron scratched his head. "Err, profess..."

"STOP!" Sirius declared again, brandishing his finger. He then turned slowly untel he was directly facing poor Ron, and lowered his finger until it pointed at the redheaded boy's nose. "I... am no longer your professor, correct?"

Ron nodded. "Umm, right."

Sirius visibly relaxed and then ruffled the boy's hair. "Then call me Sirius, okay, kiddo?" He laughed, and then looked around, noticing that nobody else was moving. "Oh... um, carry on," he said with a negligent wave. The remainder of the crowd in the bookstore breathed a sigh of relief (for some the first breath since Sirius made his initial proclaimation), and the shopping continued.

As they passed Quality Quidditch Supplies, both Harry and Ron stopped and stared into the window, with Sirius, Ginny, and the Twins not far behind. Mrs Weasley, Percy, and Hermione sighed, seeing they were pretty much left stranded, and walked over to join them knowing they could not get away from that store without the Quidditch fans at least looking.

"Wicked, Harry! It's a Firebolt!" declared Ron, his voice barely able to function in his amazement.

"It's beautiful!" declared Harry.

There, in the window, sat possibly the most highly polished, sleekest looking broom Harry had ever seen in his entire life. And they weren't alone in admiring it, either. "I hear Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" declared a wizard with a spectacularly square jaw, and equally spectacular broken nose.

Harry glanced at the sign beside the broom:

THE FIREBOLT

THIS STATE OF THE ART PACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAMLINED,  
SUERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS, AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST.

"Wow, that's even faster than my bike," noted Sirius. "Price on request, eh? Probably costs more than most wizards see in twenty years. Anyway, let's go on to Madame Malkin's and get your robes, kids."

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September First arrived as it did every year, and Harry followed his friends onto the train. As they filtered into their compartment, Harry looked around, and looked at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. "I neet to talk to you in private," he said.

"Go away then, Ginny" started Ron.

"Oh, that's nice," she replied in a bit of a huff. As she turned to stalk off, Harry stopped her.

"No, you are one of us. You need to hear this, too," he said. "Remember earlier this summer, the man that escaped from Azkaban? Peter Pettigrew?"

They all nodded. Ron scratched his head. "Yeah... but where have I heard the name 'Pettigrew' before?" he asked.

Harry's eyes grew cold. "He was the man that betrayed my parents. And according to Dumbledore, tried to lay the blame on Uncle Sirius. If it wasn't for Hagrid and grandpa Albus, he might have succeeded."

Ron snapped his fingers. "That's right! One of Mum's friends was over a fe years ago. Her husband had run off with a muggle, and she called him 'as bad a traitor as Pettigrew'. THAT'S where i heard the name before.

Harry nodded. "There wasn't much of a hooplah in the press about it, because while he's a traitor and a supporter of Voldemort's, he never actually killed anyone himself that we know of. But I have to let you know... he's probably after me."

"But why?" asked Ginny. "He can't think... he can't think killing you will bring back Riddle, can he?" As she said this, a brief flash from a half-remembered dream assailed her.

The image was horrific. An older Harry, not much older though, was tied to a tombstone, bleeding from his elbow. A short, chubby man with his own hand recently removed stood laughing, holding a bloody dagger. And behind them, in a cauldron, a hideous figure was rising. It was silhouetted in her vision, but she could clearly see its bright red eyes.

"...you alright? ginny... Ginny... GINNY!" Ron's voice was frantic as he gently picked her up off the floor of the compartment.

"Ron? What am I doing on the floor?" She looked around, and saw both Harry and Hermione were likewise crouched down there with her, casting concerned looks her way.

"Ginny, right after you asked if he thought he could bring back Voldemort, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and you slid right out of the seat onto the floor," said Harry, a worried note tinging his voice.

"And just why were you watching her eyes to notice such a thing?" came a good-humored voice from the compartment door. Looking up, they saw a moderately well-dressed man. He was young, but had greying hair, as if he had seen a great deal of stress in his life.

"Uncle Remus!" declared Harry, not getting up from his position beside Ginny. "What are you doing on the train?"

"Isn't it obvious, cub?" asked the werewolf with a grin. "And that's Professor Lupin once we reach Hogwarts," he grinned.

"Wicked!" said Ron, as he and Hermione helped Ginny back up into her seat. "That's two of your uncles in a row, Harry!"

"And I'll thank you not to get me fired like you did Sirius," chuckled Remus. "Honestly, you probably can't. I'm unfortunately only under contract for one year."

"Aww, but why?" asked Ginny. "If you're anything like Sirius I'm sure you'll be a WONDERFUL teacher!"

Remus grinned. "Let's just say there will be an even MORE important job for me opening up midsummer of next year, thnks to Headmaster Dumbledore."

As the train sped north, the rain thickened. Lupin and the Gryffindor Four spent the time laughing and joking. They listened to tales ridiculous and sublime about Lupin's own time at Hogwarts, and Ginny and Hermione both gushed to hear the story of Lily and James' courtship.

"Mental, both of them," muttered Ron, as he looked at Hermione.

"Absolutely," said Harry, his eyes on Ginny.

Soon enough, they felt the train begin to slow down. The kids started to reach up to grab their school robes, but Remus stopped them. "It's too early, kids. Wands out, and be prepared."

The train stopped with the squeal of tortured metal, and then all the lights suddenly went out. With the rain clouds covering the sky, only the barest hint of light let them even hope to see what was happening.

"What's going on?" asked Harry.

Ron peered out the window. "There's something moving out there. I think someone's coming aboard!"

Remus suddenly reached out the door of their compartment with one hand, and bodily dragged in a new figure, namely Neville Longbottom. "Sit down, please, and stay calm," he told the five kids.

As Lupin turned to face the door again, Hermione let out a scream. There in the doorway, barly visible in the half-light, was a cloaked figure that towered over them all. What was visible, the thing's hands, was grey and slimy, and almost appeared to be half decayed.

"A dementor!" whispered Lupin, even as he pointed his wand directly at it.

Cold. Harry had never felt so cold in his entire life. It chilled through his bones, his muscles, even his very heart. His eyes were cold, his ears were cold, and he could do nothing but stare. He heard voices, horrified voices screaming for help, and though he wanted to help, there was nothing he could do, nothing he could...

At once, the cold faded. Harry looked around, and discovered he was sitting on the floor, having slid out of his seat just like Ginny had earlier. Unlike her, however, he had landed in a sitting position, and hadn't quite passed completely out.

Once everyone had regained their seats, Harry felt the train moving again. Remus reached into his suitcase, and brought out a huge slab of chocolate. With a long sharp knife, he began carving off hunks of it. "Here, everyone. Eat this, it'll help." He then started passing the chcolate around.

"Chocolate?" asked Hermione. "Why chocolate?"

Remus smiled ever so slightly. "For the Muggle reason, chocolate helps release endorphins that promote emotional recovery. For the wizarding reason, chocolate makes you feel better. It's a primary ingredient in the potion version of a Cheering Charm, you know."

"What... what was that thing?" asked Harry. "And who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron.

Remus looked at the children. "That... was a dementor. One of the guards of Azkaban." He then put the slab of chocolae back in his suitcase. "Please excuse me, I must speak with the driver." And with that, he disappeared into the corridor.

Harry nodded, and absentmindedly took a bite of the chocolate. To his surprise, he felt warmth spread suddenly to his fingers and toes.

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The Sorting and the Feast provided another new piece of information - Hagrid was their new Care of Magical Creatures instructor, much to the joy of all but the Slytherins, but especially the Gryffindors.

The first class the next day was Divination, and they were introduced to the somewhat odd Divination teacher, Professor Trelawny. Harry didn't care much for her, as the very first thing she predicted was doom and gloom, claiming that the ratlike shape in his teacup was the Grim.

Hermione started acting strangely, however... referring to classes she hadn't gone to, appearing virtually out of nowhere, and very swiftly losing patience with anything and anyone, ESPECIALLY Ron.

Hagrid's first Care of Magical Creatures class was both a resounding success, and a horrible tragedy. Harry got to ride bareback on Buckbeak, a spectacular hippogriff, but the beast attacked malfoy, slashing and breaking his arm, when the git insulted him. The tragedy was this meant that charges would likely be filed, and Buckbeak might not survive the term. Of course, Ron thought the hippogriff was A-Number-One in his book for attacking Malfoy, but that's beside the point.

When Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione went to go comfort hagrid, they found him utterly depressed, and convinced he was going to be fired. After they reassured him, however, he suddenly realized something, and ordered the quartet back to the castle.

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Professor Lupin smiled as the class entered. "Good afternoon," he said. "Would you all please put your books back in your bag? You won't be needing them for today's lesson, as it is a practical one."

The students glanced at each other, some smiling, others somewhat skittish. Some of Professor Black's practical lessons the previous year had been somewhat... intense, and the student all knew Black and Lupin were good friends.

Once the students were ready, they followed Professor Lupin down a deserted corridor, and around a corner. After a short encounter with Peeves, where the teacher demonstrated a spell named 'Waddiwasi' and humiliated Peeves the Poltergeist, they arrived at the staffroom. "Inside, please," asked Professor Lupin, opening the door and standing back.

Professor Snape was sitting in the room, and as Professor Lupin began to close the door, he stood. "Please leave the door open, I would rather not witness this."

Snape straightened to his full height, black robes swirling around him. "Possibly no one has warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult, unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Neville went scarlet. Harry did as well, but with a barely contained anger. He didn't care if Snape insulted him, but insulting his friends was another matter.

Lupin raised his eyebrows, and his own back straightened. "Actually, I was hoping Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation."

"He'll bungle it," declared Nnape with finality.

"I seriously doubt that," added Lupin, with an odd emphasis on 'seriously'. Snape stiffened, and stormed out of the room, virtually slamming the door behind him.

"Now, on to the lesson," said Professor Lupin with an odd grin. He led the students to the back of the staffroom, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe. As the professor stood next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden quiver, then started shaking.

"Don't worry," said Lupin, "there's only a boggart in there. Can anyone tell me about boggarts?"

Hermione thrust her hand in the air.

"It's a shape-shifter. It can take the shape of whatever fear its prey has. It likes tight, enclosed spaces, the better to surprise its victims when it leaps out," she said.

"Precisely, Miss Granger." He nodded, and pointed back to the wardrobe. "The boggart sitting in this wardrobe has not assumed a form yet, as it cannot see its 'prey'. That would be us, by the way," he added, at which Neville let out a faint whimper. "Don't worry, students, today's lesson is on how to deal with them. And deal with them you will. Now, when I let him out of here, he will immediately become what each of us fears most.

"That means," he continued, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart. Does anyone know what it is?"

Hermione was virtually dancing on the balls of her feet, her hand in the air, but Lupin waved her down. "Someone else's turn, Miss Granger," grinned the professor. "Harry, have you spotted it yet?"

"Umm... Ah! There are so many of us, it won't know what it should be!" he declared.

"Excellent. Remember, it's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart, as it confuses him. Now, the charm that repels the boggart s simple, yet it requires a firmly set mind. You see, the only thing that defeats a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it into a shape you find humorous.

"We will practice the charm without wands firt. Repeat after me, class ... Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" chanted the class.

"Wonderful," said Professor Lupin. "But that was the easy part. But the word isn't enough. Neville, step over here, please."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville as he slunk forwards.

"Right. Now, first, Neville, what scares you more than anything else in the world?" asked Lupin.

Neville's lips moved, but nothing came out.

"Pardon?"

"Professor Snape, sir," squeaked the poor boy. Everyone laughed except harry and Hermione, and Ron quickly stopped laughing after an elbow in each side.

"Okay. I want you to picture that fear, and imagine something that would make it humorous. All of you lot back away, but neville, you stay here. Oky, on the count of three, lad. One... two... THREE! Now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Lupin's wand, and struck the door. The wardrobe burst open, Menacing, covered in flowing robes and eyes glittering with hate, Professor Snape strode out, headed straight for Neville.

R - r - riddikulus!" squeaked the boy. There was a noise like a whip crack, and suddenly Snape was standing there in a lace trimmed dress and a hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

There was a roar of laughter, and Neville was congratulated with backslaps and handshakes as he rejoined the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. The boggart paused, confused, and Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

One by one, the various students stepped up to try their hand at the boggart and the spell. Parvati's mummy got entangled in its own wrappings, Seamus' banshee lost its voice. Ron's spider lost its legs, However, class ended without Harry or hermione facing the boggart.

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The next few weeks brought Quidditch practice, and the announcement of the first Hogsmeade weekend. But when Harry went to Professor McGonagall to hand in his permission slip from his Uncle Vernon, she sighed, and handed it back.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but with Pettigrew out there, it just isn't safe for you to go to Hogsmeade. And please don't blame me, this is from the Headmaster, himself."

Hermione and Ron had great fun with Crookshanks, Hermione's new cat. After Crookshanks caught and killed a very large spider near Ron's bed, the cat was practically his hero.

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When the Hogsmeade weekend finally came, Harry found himself wandering around the castle. When he passed by an open door, he heard a voice. "Harry! Come on in, cub. Sorry about your being trapped in here."

Harry shrugged. "Apparantly Grandpa Albus thinks it's safer here rather than out there. Safer for me or Pettigrew, I don't know," he growled.

"You should know," began Lupin, "that he was sighted not far from here just a few weeks ago. He also has that animagus form, and a rat would be EXTREMELY dificult to find, even on as an intensive search as this."

"Oh." Harry understood a bit better, now, but still wasn't happy. Then a thought occurred to him. "Uncle Re... err, professor,... why didn't you let me have a turn at the boggart?"

Lupin laughed. "It's just us, Harry. Go ahead, call me Uncle Remus if you want. And I thought it would be obvious... wouldn't your greatest fear be Lord Voldemort?"

Harry was startled. This wasn't exactly the answer he had expected.

"Okay," said Lupin slowly, seeing the boy's face, "I was apparantly wrong."

"I... I didn't think of Voldemort," said Harry. "I was thinking... I was thinking of the Dementors."

Lupin's eyes widened, and he clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "That is most impressive, Harry. That effectively means that what you fear most, is really fear itself."

Before their conversation could continue, Professor Snape swept in. He was holding a smoking goblet, which he handed straight to Lupin. "It is done. Drink it straight away," he growled.

"Serverus, once again I thank you," said Lupin, downing the contents. He made a face. "Ugh. Pity sugar makes it useless."

Harry eyed the goblet. He had known of his 'Uncle's' affliction since Sirius's 'fuzzyfather' crack, and had seen him drink the wolfsbane potion before. However, he never knew that Professor Snape was the one who brewed the noxious concoction.

"Indeed. I have an entire cauldronful, that should last you at least through the next two full moons." Snape's voice was punctilious, but oddly urgent at the sme time.

Harry stood up, and turned to face Snape. "Professor... thank you."

Taken aback, the Potions Master sharply jerked his head in Harry's direction. "Whatever for, Potter?" he sneered.

"For being willing to brew the wolfsbane," he said. "I know you don't like him very much, but you do it anyway. So thank you."

Snape was silent for a very long while, gazing into Harry's eyes. Eventually, he simply nodded. "It is my job, Potter. Now, good day." He turned, robes fluttering about his feet, and strode out of the office.

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End of chapter

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And now for the reviewers:

caillion:  
There may be further connections... there may not... :D

PlatinumRoseLady:  
OOOH! A cookie! munch munch munch Err... was that for me or the characters in the fic?

Essiekl:  
Well, it seems to me to be one of the biggest pivoting points in Harry's life - whether he was loved as a child or not. And rather than having him grow up with someone else, I made a different twist, is all.

TammyLynnSlark:  
Chaps? I don't wear chaps, I'm not a cowboy afer all... oh, you meant CHAPTERS:P J/K Okay, I'll keep 'em coming!

mistressofmetal:  
I can honestly say I have never heard the word Badical before. But now I have. I assume from the rest of what you said it was a compliment:D 


	11. Chapter 11:Pris of Azkaban III

A/N: Well, sounds interesting, Platinum Rose Lady, but can yu think of what the prank entailed:D

Disclaimer: I'm a 35 year old geek. So sue me. Wait, don't! Oh right, I forgot, JKR said she thinks fanfics are wonderful! YAY!

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Prisoner of Azkaban part III

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All thoughts of the missed Hogsmeade Weekend and the fugitive Peter pettigrew were lost as Quidditch season really ramped up. Draco claimed he was too badly hurt to play, changing the schedule so that Gryffindor played Hufflepuff, After leaving practice, Harry rushed to Defense Against the Dark Arts to encounter, not Professor Lupin, but rather Professor Snape.

"Ah, yes. The lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor," he virtually purred. "Now sit down, or I shall make it another ten."

Harry went to his seat, but he stared at Snape as he did so. "Where's Professor Lupin?" he asked... then mentally kicked himself. It was the day after a full moon, of COURSE Uncle Remus wouldn't be up for teaching.

"He is too ill to be teaching you today. Now, it seems Professor Lupin left no record of what he has covered so far... so I shall cover a subject he likely hasn't." Professor Snape turned to the very back of the book, looking for a specific page.

Harry looked up at Snape, who happened to look at him, and meet his eyes. Something happened in that moment, though Harry wasn't sure what, and Snape scowled. The bat-like professor then sighed, and turned more towards the middle of the book. "I beleive you were likely about to begin studying hinkypunks, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir," replied Hermione, her book already open to the page.

"Very well, then. Everyone turn to page 141. Now, who can tell me what a hinkypunk's identifying features are? No reading ahead. And Miss granger, put your hand down and let someone else answer or it's twenty points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all!" he snarled.

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The Quidditch game that followed was an unmitigated disaster. Somehow, over a hundred dementors managed to get onto the field. Nobody fell or was hurt, but Harry heard clearly the most horrific memory of his life for the first time - the sound of his parents being murdered. While he was dazed, Cedric Digorry got the snitch, winning the match for Hufflepuff.

Unfortunately, in the chaos surrounding the dementors appearance, Harry got slammed by a bludger, right after Diggory caught the snitch. He fell off his broom, which went spiraling straight into the Whomping Willow. Fading in and out of consciousness, Harry couldn't even weep for his lost broom.

However, as he lay in the hospital bed, his realization of the voices and screaming he had heard when the dementors were near made him sick with grief. He got no sleep, as every time his head touched the pillow, he relived those moments in a horrific nightmare. In his dream, James and Lily Potter were shining angels - James a valiant warrior angel, and Lily a shining guardian angel. But then the devil would show up with his legions of hell, and blast them apart as they sought to protect him. The dream always ended with the devil facing Harry, calling out, "Avada kedavra!"

The first DADA class of the following week marked the return of both Harry Potter and Remus Lupin. Marvelling on the fact that Snape had actually done a respectable job teaching them about hinkypunks, he moved on to their larger and more dangerous brethren, the will-o'-wisp.

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Professor Lupin put the cloth cover back over the enchanted glass case that held the glowing will-o'-wisp, and looked up at the class. "Class dismissed. Oh, Harry, I'd like a word with you, please."

As Harry stayed behind, Lupin eyed him critically. "Cub, you look like you haven't slept in a week."

Harry flushed, and mumbled, "More like since the game."

"Harry, why? Why didn't you tell Madame Pomfrey? She could have given you some dreamless sleep potion, and you'd have been well rested."

Harry looked up at the man he loved like an uncle, and stopped before he spoke. He opened his mouth, and closed it, then just shook his head. He then looked up. "Professor, why was I the only one dazed by all the dementors during the game?"

The professor leaned back in his chair. "Harry, let me explain something about dementors. They are hideous things, really. No one knows where they originally came from, but they're beleived to be a form of undead, like vampyres, wights, and liches.

"What makes them so horrible... is that they feed on terror, and good memories. They consume the good memories slowly, but also force bad ones to the front of your mind, so that the good memories are tainted by that fear." He sighed. "The Ministry has studied the effects of long-term exposure rather intensly at Azkaban... and after more than a few months, all but the strongest souls are driven insane. They actually begin to fear their few remaining good memories so much, they refuse to remember them. And that's when the dementors eat those memories entirely."

"But Uncle Remus, that doesn't explain why it affects me more than the others," insisted Harry.

"Actually, it does," answered Lupin. "You see, you have a particular memory that is incredibly horrific - the murder of your parents. You were so young at the time, that they must have seeme like the love of God incarnate to you."

"Mother is the name for God in the hearts of all children," whispered Harry, remembering a quote from a muggle movie Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had taken him to see that summer.

"Precisely." Lupin stood, and walked around his desk, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "So when Voldemort came, and killed them, your mum right in front of you, it must have seemed more terrifying than the end of the world."

Harry could only nod. He was thinking of his dreams, and the deaths of the two brilliant angels, so filled with love.

Lupin paused, then hugged Harry in a rough embrace. Releasing him, the werewolf continued. "You have so many good memories, however, that it must be hard for the bad one to come out. So when it does, it's dragged screaming from the depths of your mind, disorienting you."

Harry pondered. "U-uncle Remus, is there any way to make the dementors go away?"

"There are - certain defenses that one can use," admitted Lupin. "But the charm is a very difficult one - most fully adult wizards can abrely get even the tiniest of effects from it, if that."

"Can you teach me?" asked the younger wizard.

Professor Remus Lupin looked his young student and adopted nephew in the eye. Seing a steely determination there, he could only nod. "I'll do my best. Now go to the hospital wing, and get Poppy to give you a vial of dreamless sleep for tonight, you need it."

Harry shook his head. "No sir. I... I can live with it."

"Whatever for, Harry?" asked an amazed Lupin.

Harry didn't want to say at first, but remembered all the times Lupin had been there for him. The time when he was nine years old, and found out he was a wizard. The time when he was six, and had fallen from the tree. These and many more mounted up, and Harry decided to reveal his secret. "When I have nightmares... I can hear Mum's voice."

Lupin was astonished. "What Oh, Harry... Harry, tonight after supper, meet me in my office. If I can convince Dumbledore, I'll have a way for you to hear your Mum's voice without having to suffer those awful nightmares."

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That night, Harry Potter found himself walking into the empty office of Professor Remus J Lupin, also known as "Uncle Remus". He looked around, and saw nothing. The top of the desk had even been cleared off. He turned to poke his head out of the doorway to look for him, when the man in question stepped in. "Ah, there you are, Harry. Good, now go sit on the chair over there."

In his hands, Lupin was carrying what looked like a large stone basin, with various runes covering the rim. "This, Harry," began the werewolf, "is a Penseive. It helps you sort your memories... and ithelps you show them to others."

The young man's eyes widened as he realized what Lupin was planning. "You... you're going to show me some memories of Mum and Dad?" he asked.

The older man grinned. "Of course. Sirius, Vernon, and Petunia might pop up in some of them, as well as even you and Dudley.Now, you remember the story of how Sirius, Pettigrew, and your father became animagi for me?" he asked.

Harry grinned. "Of course! Four pranksters on he prowl, now able to ACTUALLY prowl."

"Well, I'm going to let you in on a little secret here. During those days, James ws a very clannish person. If you weren't part of his circle of friends, you were fair game. He was a real prat to others, in fact. But his special malice was reserved for Slytherins, and Serverus Snape in particular. It wasn't until sixth year that he wised up, and became the man that Lily fell in love with."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked a confused Harry.

"Because one of the memories I'm going to show you is from that time. He's acting like a jerk in it. And I want to show it to you first, so you can understand what kind of man your father truly became." Lupin then sat on one side of the desk, and motioned Harry to come closer.

"Okay, umm, how does this work?" asked Harry.

Lupin smiled a wolfish smile, and brought his wand to his temple. "I merely concentrate on a given memory, and then deposit it in the bowl..."

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Harry virtually floated back to the dorms that night, escorted by Lupin, memories of his father and mother dancing in his head. He saw their first meeting, their first date (they were spied on by Remus, Sirius, and one of Lily's friends), and even their wedding. As he entered the common room, he saw Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looking at him oddly. "What?"

Ginny smirked. "Harry, you have the goofiest grin on your face. I swear, you look like Percy did after his first date with Penelope." A shadow passed across her eyes. "You didn't just have a, um, date, did you?"

Laughing, Harry shook his head. "No, Gin. Uncle Remus just used a penseive to show me memories of my parents."

Understanding dawned on the faces of the three. They then dragged Harry back to earth to do homework with them. When he finally got to sleep that night, Harry did not have a dreamless sleep. Instead, it was dreams about two angels, living life and loving each other.

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To Lupins eventual dismay, Harry ended up receiving the Marauder's Map on that next Hogsmeade Weekend. He kept it a secetthat he knew who the four 'Marauders' were when the Weasley Twins gave him the map, and thanked them profusely. But when he got to Hogsmeade,and he, Ron, and Hermione got to the Three Broomsticks, several staff members were meeting with Minister Fudge. Fudge recounted the tale of Pettigrew's betrayal and attempt at subterfuge, then mentioned how, instead of being completely barking mad, Pettigrew had seemed more skittish than anything.

That Christmas, Harry and his friends ended up staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, for their own safety. Harry received a Firebolt broom as a joint Christmas present from his three Uncles (one by blood and two by love), which thrilled him to no end.

Unfortunately, they also found out that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures planned to hold a hearing on the fate of Buckbeak on April the 20'th.

Lupin began teaching Harry the Patronus charm shortly after Christmas. There was no success at first, but then, that was to be expected. By the end of the lesson, he could produce at least a vage shape, and the boggart-dementor had much less of an effect on him.

Hermione continued to act oddly, and Ron noticed she would refer to classes she COULDN'T have gone to, because she was in a class with them at the time.

At one of his anti-dementor lessons with Lupin, Harry discovered the truest horror of the dementors - their gaping mouth, through which they would drain the souls of their victims. He also learned that was the fate awaiting Pettigrew should he be caught. This only reinforced his desire to learn the charm, in case the dementors got to Harry, first .

The Quidditch game against Ravenclaw was exciting, mainly because three Slytherins tried to masquerade as Dementors. Harry blasted them with a Patronus and grabbed the snitch at the same time. He also noticed that Cho Chang, the seeker for Ravenclaw, was rather pretty... but nowhere near as pretty as, for example, Ginny.

Hermione tried to avoid the inevitable party that followed the game, but Ron and Harry managed to drag her away from her Muggle Studies book and enjoy herself a little.

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It was the night after the Gryffindor victory over Ravenclaw, when Harry was woken up by a strange noise. "Lumos!" he shouted as he grabbed his wand and bolted upright.

For a half-second, he saw a short, pudgy man staggering around the room, a knife dropping from his hand, ans he reached for something orange and striped that covered his face. The striped thing was hissing and snarling, and Harry suddenly realized it was Crookshanks. The man, however, vanished in a heartbeat, and a small, tawny shape sped out of the room, Crookshanks close behind.

Other residents of the dorms were waking up. "What's all the fuss?" declared Dean Thomas, as the others simply yawned.

Ron, who apparantly had also been up before the others, could only gasp out, "It was Pettigrew! Peter Petigrew! With a knife!"

While there was much chaos at first, trying to figure out how Pettigrew had gotten in, the answer was solved when Harry simply pointed to the window. Its wooden frame, added a century before, had a nicely rat-sized hole chewed into it.

Ron began championing Crookshanks loud and long to anyone who would listen, saying the ginger cat had saved their lives. Harry noticed Hermione would blush when he'd start in on the rant, and parade Crookshanks around the common room, but never tried to stop him.

Buckbeak's case came up, and was lost. Hermione nearly lost it completely,and flung her arms around Ron, crying. He turned as red as his hair, and not knowing what else to do, started patting her on the back while saying not much of anything. Though saddened by Buckbeak's immenent demise, Harry couldn't help but smile at this.

When Malfoy and his cronies started making fun of hagrid over this, Hermione slapped Malfoy so hard he fell down in the mud. This, the Gryffindors thought, was one of the best things they had seen all year, and loudly cheered her. This was closely followed by her abrupt and dramatic leavetaking during Divination, which was also cheered by all. Except Parvati and Lavender, that is, who actually LIKED Divination.

And finally, the last Quidditch game of the year was as spectacular in its brutality as it was for the amazing catch of the snitch by Harry. For the first time in eight years, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, and the celebration that followed was among the most frenetic the common room had seen in centuries.

But of all the events to occur that spring, it was Trelawny's True Prophesy, given during his Divination exam, that concerned Harry the most.

In its entirety, it said, "IT WILL HAPPEN TONIGHT. THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE MIDNIGHT, THE SERVANT SHALL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT'S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER HE WAS. TONIGHT... BEFORE MIDNIGHT... THE SERVANT... WILL SET OUT... TO REJOIN... HIS MASTER..."

DEFINITELY not something you want to hear during an exam, noted Harry to himself as he left the room.

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End of Chapter

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A/N:  
When Snape told them to turn to page 141 to study Hinkypunks near the beginning, that's the page in my edition where he demanded the students turn to page 394 to study werewolves. :D

Ah, yes, my reviewers:

ivan the terrible:  
Good, i'm glad you like it!

PlatinumRoseLady:  
Heh, I'm a cat lover, myself, and I just couldn't see Ron not liking Crookshanks for killing the spider (actually happens in the book) if there was no "Scabbers" to foul up the equation. And thanks for the treats! (Does this mean I was supposed to eat the daffodil, too?) 


	12. Chapter 12:Pris of Azkaban IV

A/N: Welcome back. This chapte took me a lot of thought as to how to present the altered events, and yet still drive the story where it needed to go with both the characters AND the plot. Hope y'all enjoy!

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter, she just lets us play in Harry's back yard.

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Prisoner of Azkaban IV

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Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione reached Hagrid's cabin under cover of Harry's invisibilty cloak. It was still early evening, and the sun's last rays were gently draped across the Forbidden Forest. Ron reached out, and knocked on the half-giant's door. "It's us," hissed Harry, "under the invisibility cloak! Let us in and we can take it off!"

"Ye shouldn't have come!" Hagrid whispered, but opened the door and let them in anyway. Once they were inside, Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hagrid simply stood in his cabin, his eyes utterly lost. There were no tears, because he was beyond tears. To the Gryffindor Four, this helplessness was even worse to watch than if he had a full breakdown in front of them.

"Hagrid," asked Ginny gently, "where's Buckbeak?"

"He's... he's outside." ansered the large, kindhearted man. "He's in the pumpkin patch. That's sos he can see trees... an' smell fresh air... before..."

Hagrid shook so violently the jug of milk in his hands, apparantly intended for tea, slipped and fell onto the floor, shattering. Unable to take any more, the four students guided their friend to a chair. Ginny and Hermione both hugged him, one on each side, while Ron fixed the tea and Harry cleaned up the broken milk jug.

After a few minutes of conversation, during which Hagrid tried to convince the children to head back to the castle (both for their protection against Pettigrew AND from the sight that was to come), Harry's eyes snapped to the window. "They're coming!"

"Ye gotta go," stammered Hagrid, trembling like a leaf. "Please, they musn't find ye here... I'll lead you the back way out."

They followed him out his back door. They tried to argue with Hagrid, but the big man firmly sent them on their way. "Go quick," he implored them, "an' please... don't look. Don't listen."

As they headed down the trail to avoid the horrific sight and sound that would be awaiting them, Ron tripped and fell over something on the ground. "Ow! I think my ankle's twisted!" Whatever it was he tripped on squeaked, and ran off into the underbrush.

While Harry and Hermione helped Ron up, Ginny's face turned pale. She had seen the executioner, a man Hagrid had named as MacNair, walking out of the cabin, as they were still barely in sight. She ran down the path until she was just around the bend, closely followed by the other three at a slower pace.

No sooner had Harry and the others rounded the bend, when they heard a jumble of indistinct voices... then the unmistakeable swish and thud of an axe.

Ginny wailed softly, and Hermione swayed a bit. "They did it. They did it, Harry."

The four slowly walked, now under cover of the invisibility cloak once again. They were slightly dazed, and though their hearts broke for Buckbeak, it was Hagrid they were thinking of.

Ron eventually called a halt. "Guys, it hurts to even walk that slow. Let me sit here a bit," he said.

Together, the four crouched on the ground. No tears were shed, because it was too soon for the enourmity of it to strike them. As he looked down to massage his rapidly swelling ankle, Ron bit back a soft oat, and pointed. "It's Crookshanks - and he's following something!"

"How much you wanna bet it's Pettigrew he's chasing?" snarled Harry.

Ron paled. "Pettigrew could kill him!" The thought somehow overcoming the pain, he darted into the forest to chase after Crookshanks.

"I knew he liked the cat, but good LORD!" grumped an exasperated Hermione. It was impossible for the three to run under the invisibility cloak,so they pulled it off and it streamed behind them like a superhero cape of shimmering silver.

Eventually they caught up with Ron, whose ankle pain had returned with the rough treatment he gave it. "Come back, Crookshanks, he's too dangerous!" he was yelling to the car.

It was then that Hermione spotted the rat. It was somewhere between tawny and grey, with bald spots showing through as if its fur had fallen out in clumps. And it was leading Crookshanks and Ron directly to...

"Ron, stop!" she yelled. "It's the Whomping Williow!"

Her warning was too late, as a huge branch suddenly lashed out, and clubbed right into Ron's thigh. Screaming in pain, he dropped to the ground like a stone. Crookshanks stopped his chase of the rat, and glided over to Ron, nudging his face with his nose as he chirrupped a sad little trill.

The other three students soon reached just outside the path of the swinging branches. To Harry's amazement, the rat scampered up to a knot on the trunk of the tree, which suddenly stopped swinging. The rat then turned, and its form flowed like water until it was a man again.

Peter Pettigrew was not the portly, cherubic-faced boy he was wen he went to Azkaban. He was wide-eyed now, with what little hair he had wild and scattered abut his head. His eyes bore the light of madness, and he cackled with glee. A quick stunner, and Crookshanks was down. "Come no closer!" yelled Pettigre. "The boy here's my hostage!"

Harry and the others paused in fear. While they stood frozen, Pettigrew suddenly grabbed Ron, and roughly dragged him into a large gap at the roots of the tree.

As soon as Pettigrew and Ron were out of sight, they rushed forward, and Hermione woke her poor cat up with a hasty 'Enervate'. No sooner had she done so, when Crookshanks went darting into the gap the madman and their friend had gone moments before. "Lumos!" cried Hermione, lighting her wand before darting after.

Ginny barely had time to glance at Harry, before they both lit their ands, and followed Hermione. They raced down the tunnel as best as they could, hunched over and darting through twists and turns.

Eventually, they emerged through a trap door into a dusty room. The furniture was barely more than kindling, and the doors were boarded up. "I... I think we're in the Shrieking Shack," breathed Hermione.

At that moment, there was movement from above them. Ginny's hand gripped Harry's arm so tight he nearly lost feeling in his fingers. Quietly, they left the room and into the hall, going up a crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust... except the floor, where a pair of fresh footprints lay next to a shiny stripe where something had been dragged upstairs.

Looking at each other, the three young spellcasters said "Nox", extinguishing their wands. From the doorway of one of the rooms, light could be seen streaming around a half-open door.

Harry drew himself up to his full height. Behind that door lay his best friend, his other best friend's cat, and his parents' murderer. He led the two girls up to the doorway, and exchanged a last nod with each of them.

Gripping his wand tightly, he kicked the door open.

On the remnants of a four-poster bed lay Ron, his leg bent at an off angle, and bruises on the side of his head. Crookshanks stood protectively over him, hissing and spitting.

Harry glanced around. "Ron, where's Pettigrew?"

"Trap," Ron managed through clenched teeth - one leg was definitely broken, and the other ankle was likely sprained, at the very least.He looked straight over Harry's shoulder.

Harry wheeled, wand at the ready, right as a weedy voice drawled "Expelliarmus!" His wand flipped out of his hand, and dropped neatly into the gnarled hand of his parents' betrayer. In his hand was Ron's wand.

"I knew you'd come to help your friend," sneered the traitor. "Your father would have done the same. Rather stupid not to run for a teacher, though it makes it a lot easier."

Harry's blood boiled. He wanted to attack, to kill this mockery of a Gryffindor that stood before them. But Hermione and Ginny held him back.

Ron, despite incredible agony, managed to get to his feet, and draped himself on Harry's shoulder. "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill me, too!"

"All three of us!" shouted Ginny, darting around Ron's side to help hold him up.

"All four of us!" declared Hermione, standing beside Harry.

"Why, how informative!" cackled Pettigrew. "That's exactly what I had planned." He drew Ron's wand, and started tracing it back and forth across the students. "Eenie, meeny, miny, moe, which of you will be the first to go?" He then broke up laughing, a horrifying sound as it seemed to have little or no humanity left.

"MURDERER!" shouted Harry, unable to contain his rage any longer. Hermione struggled to hold him back, and Ron winced in pain as Harry's movements shifted his position.

However, neither Hermione nor Ron counted on adrenaline rushing through Harry's body. He broke free of his friends, Hermione suddenly yelping and trying to catch the falling Ron and Ginny. Forgetting all magic, Harry did something Pettigrew did not expect. Rather than run, he charged forwards.

One hand clamped on the traitor's wrist, moving the wand point out of line of any of his friends. The other, clenched into a fist, slammed directly into the wasted jaw of Pettigrew, rocking his head back.

Even as a jet of green light shot from the wand, missing everyone by inches, Pettigrew's free hand reached Harry's throat. "No, I've waited too long. TOO LONG, do you hear!" he roared.

They heard muffled footsteps on the stairs. Hermione shouted "We're up here!" This distracted Pettigrew long enough for Ginny to suddenly dart forwards, and snatch the wand out of his hand.

The door burst open again, this time showing, to Harry's releif, both Professor Lupin, and Sirius Black. "Great Merlin!" declared Lupin.

Sirius was quicker to react. He suddenly drew his wand, and it was pointed directly at Pettigrew's temple from only inches away. "Let him go, Wormtail," he snarled.

Harry rubbed his throat as soon as Peter released him. "H...how did you know we were here?" he asked.

"The Marauder's Map," said Lupin. "I was in my office, talking to Sirius, and was showing him you'd managed to get ahold of it. When we looked at it, it showed Peter dragging Ron under the Whomping Willow."

Sirius did not take his eyes off Pettigrew, but continued. "When we saw that, we raced out of the castle. We passed Snape along the way, told him where we were headed and why. He ran off to tell the Headmaster, and they should be here any minute."

"With the dementors?" asked Harry.

"There won't be anything left for the dementors," growled Lupin with more ferocity than harry had ever heard before.

"Wait a second, Remus," interrupted Sirius, his voice cold. "Before we do this, I want to know exactly why."

"Why what?" asked Ginny. She knew the sad tale of the Marauders, but didn't quite know all the details.

"Why THIS RAT betrayed James and Lily!" roared Sirius.

Peter shrunk back, his bone thin frame seeming to fold like matchsticks."I... I had to, Padfoot. The Dark Lord... you have no idea of the weight of his mind..." he wheezed.

"And the weight of his mind was greater than the weight of our friendship?" countered Lupin.

"Moony, Padfoot, I..."

"STOP! You lost the right to call us those names twelve years ago, when you betrayed everything we stood for!" interrupted Black.

"But he would have killed me!" wailed Pettigrew.

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED FOR THEM! AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" Sirius's voice was thunderous, shaking the remaining bits of glass in the boarded up windows.

At that moment, another form burst into the room. Holding his chest and breathing heavily, Professor Snape glanced at Pettigrew, who seemed to be well in hand, and looked straight at Professor Lupin. "Remus!" he gasped. "Your potion! You forgot the wolfsbane tonight!"

Horror crept across the features of Remus Lupin. Suddenly, he started shoving the schoolkids out of the room. "Go, go now! Follow Snape back to the castle! There's not much time until moonrise!"

All of those there knew about Lupin's condition, and they wasted no time following his orders. Sirius turned to grab Pettigrew, but swore. "Curse it! The rat transformed, and got away!"

Snape jerked his head back. "Worry about it later, you fool! We must get OUT of here before Lupin transforms!"

They were down the stairs, and about to turn to enter the room where the trap door was located, when the door of the upstairs room exploded into splinters. There, now standing on the landing, was the most massive wolf Harry had ever seen in his life. All of themwere stunned, staring at the beast, even Sirius who had seen the transformation dozens upon dozens of times. It seemd wrong, however. It was far too muscular to be a true wold, and its snout was filled with too many teeth that were too sharp. It's tail was little more than a nub, and its yellow eyes gleamed with a feral hate.

"RUN!" shouted Sirius, pointing his wand at the wall of the room. "REDUCTO!" he shouted, blowing a hole in it to run through.

The group dashed out of the wall, Snape half-carrying the injured Ron. At the last second, Sirius turned into a huge black dog, and body-checked the onrushing werewolf. "Get moving, Potter!" snarled Snape.

"But Sirius..." began Ginny.

"Is relatively safe in that form, but we are not!" barked the Potions Master. "A werewolf bite does not turn an animagus in animal form!"

As the sounds of snarling and growling faded behind them, the five dashed through the Forbidden Forest, back to the safety of Hogwarts.

As they drew closer to the grounds, a chilling wind blew over them. Thinking it was the wind off the lake, they simply pressed on. Eventually, however, the cold became to mind-numbing for it to be anything else.

"Dementors!" gasped Snape. Lowering Ron to the ground, he readied his wand. "I'm still too winded to do much magic, Potter, so I hope Lupin managed to finish teaching you the Patronus Charm," he grumbled.

From the woods surrounding the lake, a horrific sight met their eyes. Not one, or even ten dementors, but over a HUNDRED dementors came gliding in a black mass around the lake, towards them.

Ginny was the first to drop, crying aloud about the Chamber, Snape, surprisingly, droped next, clawing at his face as he fell into his own personal hell. Hermione stood her ground next to Harry, but shook with absolute terror, and clearly not seeing anything but whatever dark memory was being dragged to the surface by the cloaked fiends.

Harry stood resolute. The screaming in his head had begun, and he was having trouble grabbing on to his happy thought. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, over and over.

Eventually, a thin wisp of silver escaped his wand, and hovered in the air in front of them. At the same moment, he felt Hermione collapse in front of him. He was all alone.

A dementro drew quite near, unable to fully penetrate the weak silver mist Harry's wand had produced. But it waved its hands, and soon the mist faded.

He heard the gathering dementors rasping and rattling. Then, the nearest dementor seemed to be considering him. It raised its rotting hands... and lowered its hood.

The sight was one he would carry to the grave. The things face had no eyes, nose, or ears, but oly a gaping mouth, sucking in air in a mockery of living breath.

The thing grabbed him suddenly, moving with a swiftness he could not have imagined. Clammy hands grasped his wrists, and it forced him to the ground. The weight of the thing held him immobile, and its hideous maw began to lower itself towards his face. He could feel its breath... hear his parents screaming... and the cold... so cold...

A faint glimmer of silvery light penetrated the fog, reaching his eyes. The weight left him, and he rolled over, sick and shaking. The screaming stopped, and the cold ebbed away.

Something was driving the dementors back. It was circling around him, Professor Snape, and his friends. The dementors were leaving.

It was warm again. With every ounce of strength he had, he looked and saw whatever it was gallop across the lake, from whence it came. For a moment, Harry saw someone, lit up by the light the silvery shape gave off. Someone familiar, but it couldn't be...

And with that, Harry fainted.

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A buzz penetrated the cotton that Harry felt his brain had been replaced with. Soon, all too soon, the buzz was replaced by voices.

"Astounding, Professor. I must say, until Black and Lupin return, I believe we shall not know the full events of what transpired. These poor children are not in much shape to tell us. It's a miracle they didn't get Kissed!"

"Indeed, Minister Fudge." This voice Harry recognized, but the name took a second to penetrate... Grandpa... Grandpa Albus. Headmaster Dumbledore.

"I wonder whatever reason the dementors had for attacking them," said the person Harry assumed was the Minister. "They were to hunt Pettigrew, not teachers and students."

"I would not know," said Dumbledore, his voice suddenly as cold as a dementor's terror, itself. "Have I not said for decades that they were unreliable? Have I not said they should NEVER be allowed to hunt for prisoners? They served Grindelwald. They served Whately. And they served nearly every Dark Lord since they first became known. It would not surprise me if they left to join Voldemort, should he return."

"Can't happen," refuted Fudge, "Harry here saw to that twelve years ago."

"Then the next Dark Lord may draw their loyalty," said Dumbledore, undeterred. "Now if you will excuse me, I have four students and a teacher who need me."

Harry opened his eyes to a blurry world. A blue and white blur reahed towards his face, and suddenly the world came into focus. One hand reaching up to adjust the glasses that were now on his face, Harry pleaded with his eyes. "How are the others? Ginny? Ron? Hermione? Professor Snape? Uncle Sirius? Uncle Remus?"

"Mr and Miss Weasley are still unconscious," began Dumbledore. "From the sound of things, Miss Granger is stirring even as we speak. And Sirius is still in the Forbidden Forest, helping control his wild brother on this full moon night."

Harry waited, "And... and Professor Snape?" he asked. Noticing that Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle, his heart fell. "He wasn't... he wasn't Kissed, was he? Oh no! Oh Merlin! it's all my fault, my fault, if I hadn't..." He lunged forward, grabbing the Headmaster in a fierce hug, tears streaming down his face.

Dumbledore held Harry for a moment, then pried him off and pulled him away. "No, Harry, Professor Snape was not kissed.But, he is in dire straights. He had seen and done so much darkness in his young life before he came to me, that some of his memories are horrible, indeed. They were ripped out of his psyche, and sent tearing through his mind at such a rapid pace that we believe his mind almost completely shut down from the trauma.

"He will likely recover... but we know not when. And he may not be the same man we remember when he does recover," continued the wizened professor.

Harry stared, dumbfounded. What exactly had Snape done that was so horrible? Mistreating students wasn't that evil, but whatever it was, it was likely something Harry did not want to know about. Another thought struck him. "Hagrid! Oh, Hagrid! Poor Buckbeak. Professor... when can we leave? We HAVE to see Hagrid!"

A shaky voice from a bed away joined his. "Y-yes, Professor! We have to see Hagrid!"

Dumbledore considered the two. "I am afraid, he said slowly, looking hermione in the eye, "that this is not the... TIME... for that. There are things that lie in the balance, here." he then turned, and began to leave the Hospital Wing.

Hermione and Harry glanced at each other, and watched him leave in confusion. "Three turns ought to do it. It is five minutes to midnight," said Dumbledore as he reached the door. He turned and winked at them. "And you might even save a life. Oh, and you can trust pink."

As the door closed behind him, Hermione practically jumped out of bed. "Harry, come here!"

He did so, clambering off his own bed, but asked, "What was that Dumbledore was saying about three turns?"

Hermione didn't say anything, but drew out a sparkling gold chain with a tiny hourglass dangling from it. She pulled him close, and put the chain around both of their necks, and gave the hourglass three turns.

Everything dissolved, and blurs raced past Harry's eyes, things he could not identify. Suddenly, he landed on his feet next to Hermione in the deserted Entrance Hall, a stream of golden sunlight falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. "Hermione, what..."

"In here!" Hermione seized Harry's arm, and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom closet, slamming the door shut behind him.

"What... what just happened," whispered Harry.

"We've gone back in time. Three hours." She opened the door a tiny crack, and peered out. "But we must NOT be seen, Harry."

Under protection of their hiding place, they heard the slow measured pace of four students crammed as tight as possible under an invisibility cloak that barely covered them. Staying out of sight, they crept to a new vantage point, where they could see Hagrid's cabin.

In a hushed whisper, as they hid behind the wall of the pumpkin patch, Hermione explained about the time-turner. They then pondered why going back three hours would change anything, when it hit Harry. "Hermione... we're going to save Buckbeak! That's what he meant by save a life!"

"But a time-turner cannot change what's already happened!" insisted Hermione. And we heard..."

"We heard the thunk of an axe. We didn't see or hear what it may have actually hit," countered Harry.

Looking up at the hippogriff, Harry asked, "Should we save him now?"

Hermione shook her head. "If we do, it'll be noticed by those committee people. We've got to wait until he's been seen tied up outside, or they'll arret Hagrid!"

At that moment, they heard the crash of the breaking milk jug from inside the cabin. "Only a few more minutes," muttered Harry.

Soon enough, they saw Dumbledore, Fudge, a Committee member, and Macnair the executioner stride up toward's Hagrid's cabin. The watched themselves run out the back way, and then watched hagrid rush back to the front door, and let the four men in.

"Now!" exclaimed Hermione. They dashed over the wall, and came to just outside the reach of the tethered hippogriff. Harry's heart thudded in his chest, but right before he bowed to Buckbeak to get his trust so they could free him, the hippogriff bowed to him, first!

They could hear Dumbledore stalling the Ministry officials, even as Harry fumbled with the knot on the thick rope. After wrestling with the knot, and much obstinance from the brave creature, they managed to get him just inside the treeline, and out of sight of the cabin or its environs.

"Where is it?" demanded the Committee member. "It was out here when we arrived!"

"I SAW it here with me own eyes!" demanded the executioner.

"How extraordinary. It appears someone has stolen the condemned," noted Dumbledore, with a note of amusement in his voice.

There was the swishing noise, and the thudding of an axe, exactly as they had heard before. It turns out what the axe had hit... was an old stump, near the fence. Hagrid howled almost incoherantly, but they realized the howl was one of joy, not sorrow.

"Gone! God bless his little beak, musta pulled himself free! Ya clever boy!" said a smiling Hagrid, staring at the sky as if to see the fleeing hippogriff.

MacNair wanted to search the forest for the'theives', but Dumbledore suggested that no one would be foolish enough to escape with a hippogriff on foot. And since searching the entire sky was an unreasonable task, he suggested the entire party retre to Hagrid's cabin for tea.

Smiling, Harry and Hermione led Buckbeak through the forest, away from Hogwarts, unsure of what to do with him. but shortly after they left the forest near Hogsmeade, when they heard a voice. "Hey... is that the hippogriff I'm s'posed to be collecting for Dumbledore? To take back to, err, someplace safe?"

Looking up, they saw a spritely young woman, in her early twenties, with shocking pink hair. "Wotcher, kids. I'm Tonks, a friend of Dumbledore's. He said I should wait here in Hogsmeade for a while, for a hippogriff to take someplace safe?"

Hermione didn't know what to do, but with a glance at her hair, Harry smiled. "Well, Dumbledore said we could trust pink, I guess this is what he was talking about. I'm Harry Potter, and this is Hermione Granger."

Tonks smiled. To her credit, Harry noted she resisted the urge to glance at his scar. She was ratehr obvious about fighting the urge, though, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt. "Nice to meetcha, Harry. I work with your Uncle Sirius. Just started a week ago, in fact, and got assigned to his section." She paused before she got too close, and bowed before the hippogriff. Buckbeak bent one scaly knee to her, and she drew closer.

"But how could he know we'd go this way?" insisted Hermione.

Harry grinned. "Maybe you're not the only one Professor McGonagall managed to get a time turner to?" he whispered.

Meanwhile, Tonks was admiring Buckbeak. "Great Merlin, but you're a beauty," she breathed. "The absolute best of horses and eagles..."

Harry handed her the rope, but Tonks still stood there, stroking Buckbeak's coat with an almost hypnotized expression. "Err, Tonks, Miss Tonks? Umm, aren't you going to be taking him away from here?"

"Oh, right, too right!" Untying the other end of the rope from around Buckbeak's neck, she easily vaulted onto the hippogriff's back... but her momentum carried her clear over to the other side, where she landed in a heap on the ground. After another, similar false start, Buckbeak nickered, and bent over for her to climb on. After yet another false start, Harry and hermione helped her on. "Sorry about this," she said. "I'm wiz with my spellwork, got me through the Auror's Academy, but I'm as clumsy as a five-footed erumpent." She said her goodbyes, and went soaring off into the skies on Buckbeak's back.

The two turned, and began to head back to the castle, when an explosion startled them. They turned, and immediately ducked into the treeline, because they had been passing the Shreiking Shack! They saw Snape, carrying Ron, and the rest of them pour out of the hole in the wall, followed by Sirius and the werewolf form of Remus.

"Why didn't Snape use a stretcher?" queried Hermione.

"He said it himself, his magic reserves were too low," answered Harry. "As to why, I have no clue."

They raced through the woods, shadowing the party of teacher and students. "By the way... what made the dementors stop attacking us, while I'm asking questions?" asked Hermione.

"A Patronus... a very powerful one."

"Did you see who cast it?"

"Yes, I saw him," said Harry. "But I was about ready to pass out... so maybe I imagined it."

"Who did you think it was?"

Harry swallowed, knowing how it would sound. "I think... I think it was my dad."

"But he's..." Hermione trailed off.

"Yeah, I know. But I have photos, you know... and it looked exactly like him."

They raced towards Hagrid's Hut. "We can't interfere," said Hermione. "We have to stay here. They've all gone back to Dumbledore's office for tea, remember?'

Harry nodded. "But how will we know it's time to go back to the Hospital wing? I'll be right outside, hiding behind the garden wall."

"Okay, but be careful! There's Pettigrew, a werewolf, and the dementors out there!"

Harry steppe outside, and edged out around the cabin. He stared at the lake as he did so, wondering if all four of the Marauders had truly been on Hogwarts' grounds tonight.

He began to hear yelling in the distance, on the other side of the lake - where he, Snape, and his friends were. Dementors seemed to melt out of every dark shadow, flowing rapidly towards them.

Harry's heart started thudding against his chest. Whoever it was who cast that Patronus would be appearing any minute now. He walked up to the shore of the lake, and watched with horror as the scene replayed in front of him.

As he drew nearer to the bank, he saw wisps of silver - hs own pathertic attempts at a Patronus. An excited thrill shot through him, as he told himself, "Any minute now, he'll be here. The one who cast the Patronus."

But no one came.

Harry raised his head, and saw the circle of dementors burshing aside his own silver mist, and grab him... his previous self... by the wrists. And still no one came.

But there WAS someone there. He, himself, was there. And he suddenly knew the truth.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled, flinging himself from behind a bush into open ground.

From his wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling silver animal. He screwed up his eyes trying to make out what it was, but it was too bright. He saw it race across the lake, and dash headlong into the massed dementors. The dark things scattered at its advance, falling back, releasing his previous self, and vanishing back into the darkness.

Its job done, the magnificent beast turned around, and trotted back across the flowing surface of the lake, and he finally realized what it was. As it stood before him, hoves leaving no mark on the ground, he smiled. It lowered its antlered head, and vanished.

"Prongs..." he whispered.

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Harry and Hermione managed to get back inside the hospital wing just before they needed to, thanks to Harry's invisibility cloak. It had fallen from their grasp during the run from the Shreiking Shack, and they picked it back up just for this reason.

No sooner had they gotten back on their own beds, when Madame Pomfrey showed up. She gave them each chocolate, and marvelled at how wll recovered they were so far. She updated them on Ron and Snape's conditions, and left with stern warnings that they were to remain there overnight and get some rest.

Shortly after they left and returned, Ginny stirred. They dashed to her bedside, and were there for her when she woke up. She glanced up at the two, but when she saw Harry, her eyes flew open wide. She grabbed him, clutching at his shirt and crying her eyes out. "I... I..." she began.

"Shhh, it's okay," said Harry. He looked on her bedside table, and sure enough, saw a huge block of chocolate. He reached over and broke off a piece, and waved it under her nose, grinning. "You need to eat ze choco- la-te!" he said, in a bad French accent.

Ginny responded by punching him in the shoulder, and accepting the chocolate. "Well, you two are apparantly fine," she said. "What about Rn? Professor Snape?"

Harry gestured to the other side of the ward. Ron was lucky... kinda. His pain made him pass out before the dementors got there, so he's right now just waiting on his pain potion to wear off. Then he'll probably be awake again."

She smiled. "And Snape?" she asked.

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. "Ginny... he was hurt bad. Not physically, but mentally," said Harry. "The... the dementors really did a number on him."

The youngest Weasley's eyes began to water. "He... he wasn't so bad, you know? He risked a lot trying to save Ron, and warned us about Lupin forgetting the potion before it was too late."

Hermione and harry both put their arms around the younger girl, and dragged her into a fierce, three-way embrace. "We know, Gin-gin. We know."

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The Leaving Feast and ride home to Platform 9 3/4 was something harry would never really remember well for the rest of his life. He was too concerned for the still comatose Professor, as was apparantly all of Slytherin house... and a surprising number of Gryffindors. After hearing their story, most of the Third and Second years had decided that maybe, just maybe, the Slytherins weren't -all- bad.

Malfoy had been silent the entire time. Snape was his godfather, and one of the few authority figures besides his father he truly respected. The fact that he had been injured heling Gryffindors seemed to be a mortal insult... but it was too soon. Whenever he would pass one of the Gryffindor Four in the halls, theywould be met with a murderous glare, instead of a sneer and an insult.

But, finally, they left the school, rode the train to the station, and returned to their lives.

That summer, Number Four Privet Drive saw Harry Potter change, in his heart, from a boy to a man. He spent what time he could at St Mungo's to visit the Professor, and the rest of his time was spent studying, or doing chores. When Lupin came back a week later, with a banged up Sirius, any doubts about his relationship with the "Cub" were dispelled when the two last remaining Marauders were grabbed in a fierce hug.

And as he slept, Professor Serverus Snape was granted the Order of Merlin, Second Class, for Conspicuous Gallantry and Courage in saving four Hogwarts' students from death or worse at the hands of an uncontrolled werewolf.

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A/N: Well, that ends the third book. Next up, things start to go even more askew as Harry enters his fourth year... and enters the Tri-Wizard Tournament!

WHO will be his DADA teacher?

Will Snape recover? Will he do so in time to teach classes this year? And what will he be like if he DOES recover?

Pettigrew is more vicious... just how much more dangerous is he, now? What can we expect from this more feral rat?

And did Tonks manage to keep from falling off Buckbeak's back before she reached "a safe place"?

These questions and more will be answered shortly!

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And my reviewers:

athenakitty:  
Well, it seems so. But why? And what will this do to events from later years?

mistressofmetal:  
Ah. Heard of Kim Possible, but I almost never watch TV. And thank you!

caillion:  
Actually, the quote was used in the movie "The Crow", which is where harry saw it. I'm not sure where it originally came from or who said it, before then, however. And thanks for the spelling correction, I somehow missed that. :D However, just wait... eventually there shall come a turning point where things might actually get LESS happy than canon... 


	13. Chapter 13: Goblet of Fire I

Serverus Snape stood on a high tower. He did not recognize it, so he immediately decided that the tower was not one of those that adorned mighty Hogwarts. Looking around, he realized that he could see nothing beyond the courtyard and outer wall of the castle he now stood upon.

A voice behind him spoke. "You will have to make a choice."

"But what do I choose?" he asked.

"Who lives, and who dies."

"When do I choose?"

"In three year's time."

"But how will I know to make the choice?"

"You will know."

As the castle faded into misty grey expanses of nothingness, the voice echoed in his mind. "You will know... you will know..."

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Apprentice Healer Thurbaldson bent over and gently straightened the half-moon spectacles on the sleeping face of Albus Dumbledore. He had spent many days and nights with the comatose Serverus Snape, apparantly deeming the trauma that had occurred to the Potions Master to be his own fault. Truth be told, the Apprentice healer knew, somehow, that it was the fault of that lunatic that escaped from Azkaban last year, Peter Pettigrew. After all, her own parents had graduated Hogwarts while Snape, Pettigrew, and the noted aurors Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were second years. There was bad blood all around, save between Remus and Sirius, so the lunatic probably seized his chance to throw his old nemesis to a pack of hungry Dementors.

Twinkling blue eyes snapped open and regarded the Apprentice Healer. "Why, thank you, young Miss Thurbaldson. You are as courteous as ever."

"Oh!" she cried, hopping back. "I'm sorry, Headmaster. I thought you were asleep. And... and I'm sorry, but there hasn't been any change since you, umm, closed your eyes."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I know, my dear. I would have woken immediately had there been a change." His eyes narrowed slightly. "My dear, is there someone else here with us?" He then reached into a pocket, and pulled out an odd looking device, all spinning spheres and cycling orbits. "Hrms... no, no living being nor ghost is here... But I could swear I felt..."

"... you will know..." muttered Professor Snape, the first words he had spoken in almost a month.

The Apprentice Healer bolted out of the room to find her superiors and let them know the patient had emerged from his coma, while the aged wizard bent over his young friend. "Serverus, it's Albus. What will I know?"

Dark, brooding eyes forced themselves open, as Snape's raspy voice answered with, "Know? Albus... what are you talking about?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Oh, nothing, my friend. You just close your eyes and get some rest. I shall return shortly."

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Summer passed by swiftly for Ron and Harry... that is, until they found out they were going to get to go to the Quidditch World Cup in mid August. After hearingthat news, the remaining days just DRAGGED on by.

Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were just as excited as Harry and Ron to see the game, because they had yet to see a professional Quidditch game yet. Ron, of course, spent hours regaling Dudley with stories of Quidditch, and explained some of his stories with the moving pictures in "Quidditch Through the Ages". By the time the Dursleys and Harry left for the Burrow to prepare to leave for the game, not only was Dudley a die-hard fan of Quidditch, but of the Chudley Canons, as well.

The game was an amazing one - Ireland won, but Viktor Krum caught the snitch, realizing that the Irish Chaser were just too good, and wanting to leave the game with SOME dignity intact.

As the Weasleys, the Dursleys, Hermione, and Harry began to leave, chaos broke out. A family of muggles was tortured by people dressed as Death Eaters, and the Dark Mark was cast, sending the crowd into a virtual riot.

The newspapers had a field day with this, especially one Rita Skeeter, a particularly unsavory reporter. But soon, the impending arrival of September First drove all thoughts of anything out of the minds of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry.

Anything, that is, besides the well-being of the man who once was the most hated professor at Hogwarts. Serverus Snape had come out of his coma five days before Harry's birthday, but was still incredibly weak. Rumor had it that he was not going to be able to return to Hogwarts to teach because of it.

More rumors flew about who would be the next DADA instructor. When Harry asked Remus about it, the werewolf just grinned. "Well, it isn't me," he said. "But I think you'll have a fun time in DADA this year."

On September First, the students all boarded the Hogwarts Express, and enjoyed the journey to school. Well, except for the semi-annual visit of Draco Malfoy, of course, but even that was soon forgotten as they climbed into the cairrages and rode off towards the mighty castle.

The Sorting Feast was interrupted by the arrival of a formidable figure. One-legged, one-eyed, missing part of his nose, and covered with scars, Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody turned out to be the new DADA instructor. In addition, Ron and Harry were heartbroken to hear that Quidditch was canclled for the year... but excited to learn it was because of the upcoming Tri-Wizard Tournament!

They also learned that while the Fourth Years and below would still have Professor Snape for Potions, the OWL and NEWT students would have a professor recently persuaded out of retirement - one Horace Slughorn. Of course, Harry received a note after dinner inviting him to an "informal gathering of individuals", and out of curiosity chose to attend. However, he looked in and saw Draco Malfoy casually chatting with the professor as part of this 'gathering', and decided better, turning to leave.

On his way out, he ended up having a confrontation with Malfoy. To the eternal delight of most of gryffindor, Professor Moody stepped in... and turned Malfoy into a ferret, and started bouncing him off the floor. "The Amazing bouncing Ferret" would be a story that would end up lasting longer than the name of Draco Malfoy in the halls of Hogwarts.

In DADA, Professor Moody demonstrated the three Unforgiveable Curses on some spiders, thoroughly shaking Neville up when he saw the Cruciatus curse applied. Later, he even put each one of them under the Imperius curse, which only Harry managed to halfway fight off.

Surprisingly, Snape was nowhere near as mean or vicious as he had been the thre previous years, even giving half-hearted words of encouragement to Neville when he almost got a potion right. Hagrid was still Hagrid, of course, and had the class raising revolting creatures he called 'Blast-ended Skrewts'. Despite the fact that he still wasn't quite sure what they ate, the skrewts grew rapidly to the class's dismay.

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All too soon, October rolled around. In mid-October, a sign announcing the impending arrival of students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang on the 30th appeared on the notice boards. Everyone was anxious, and the Twins had already begun plans on entering the Triwizard Tournament. The entire castle was gearing up to put its best foot forward, and Harry had to stop himself from jinxing Argus Filch, the caretaker, when he sent a pair of second-year girls (a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw) into hysterics when he yelled at them for tracking in mud.

The arrival of the two schools was quite dramatic. The Beauxbaton's contingent arrived in a massive cairrage drawn by titanic, flying horses the size of elephants, while the Durmstrang students arrived by a ship that sailed under land and sea, to surface in the lake in the courtyard.

The Goblet of Fire was unveiled, and the story told of previous Triwizard Tournaments. Dumbledore also declared that no one under the age of 17 could pass and enter their name. This, of course, didn't deter Fred and george, who tried drinking an Aging Potion... only to be catapulted beyond the age line, with massive white beards suddenly adorning their chins.

Finally, on Halloweed, the champions for each school were announced. For Hogwarts, it would be Cedric Diggory, the handsome seeker for the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team. For Beauxbatons, the lovely part-veela girl Fleur DelaCour took the role, and Viktor Krum, seeker for the Bulgarian National Team and brooding heartthrob of teenage girls across the continent, claimed the role for Durmstrang.

It was to everyone's surprise when a FOURTH name emerged from the goblet, and Dumbledore cried out in alarm, "Harry Potter!"

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"I'm telling you, there's no way Harry could have put his name in that goblet," insisted Hermione. Harry had been sent back to confer with the other three Champions, and the rest of the Griffindor Four were on their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Ron grumbled a bit. "Then... then how'd his name get in there? Why'd he even WANT it there? He already has everything - money, fame, family. Everything." He paused, and looked at the portrait of the fat Lady as they drew near. "Balderdash," he said,and the portrait swung open.

Ginny suddenly reached out, and snatched Ron by the ear. "That's exactly right!" she hissed. "It's BALDERDASH to think he had anything to do with that! Ron, you've known Harry for a little over three years now. How does he react when people treat him like a celebrity?" she demanded.

Ron winced, and blushed a bit. "He... he gets mad. Or embarrassed. He doesn't like it," he admitted.

She let go. She then looked around the commonroom, at all the faces who were staring at them. "That goes for all of you, too!" she practically snarled. "He's probably scared out of his wits right now, trying to figure out who put his name in that goblet. He could be KILLED in the tournament, remember?"

Silence greeted her outburst. Even the seventh years were stunned, to say the least. Finally, Angelina Johnson spoke up. "You know, you're right, Ginny. I think it's best if we not mention it to him at all unless he brings it up."

Almost an hour later, the portrait once more swung open, and Harry entered the common room. All eyes swung his way, then most suddenly swerved and looked at whatever they were doing. The rest either looked guilty, or put on falsely cheerful faces. Confused, Harry walked over to the rest of the Four. "Err... who died?" he asked.

"Err..." began Ron. "Some of 'em think, well,"

"Some of them think it'll be you," said Hermione. "We don't think so, but the reality of it all just hit them, oh, about forty-five minutes ago."

"Any idea who did this to you?" asked Ron.

Harry shook his head. "No clue. Professor Moody thinks it may be someone who's trying to kill me. And not a student, either; Malfoy is off the hook for once." He gave a half-hearted grin at his last statement.

"That narrows it down," admitted Hermione. "But it's beside the point right now. The Goblet is a binding magical contract, so our FIRST priority is making sure you survive the Tournament."

"No, Hermione," said Harry.

"What? But.." she began.

Ginny piped up. "He's right, you know. If we give him any help, any at all, it's cheating. The best we can do is give him moral support... and help him learn all sorts of new jinxes, hexes, charms, and curses that could come in handy," she added with a smirk. "The fact that we'd be learning them too, to help him prepare, is just a bonus, of course."

Ron groaned, and rolled his eyes. "Just what I need, a sister who's even MORE dangerous."

Crookshanks chose that moment to suddenly jump up from the ground directly onto Ron's chest, bowling him over from the surprise of it all. The common room erupted in laughter, and Harry began to feel that things were getting back to normal.

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The next few days were a lot more tension-filled than Harry had expected. A few Hufflepuffs had been sighted wearing badges that said "Support Cedric Diggory - the REAL Hogwarts Champion", then switched to "Potter Stinks" when pressed. In a show of loyalty, almost the entire Gryffindor House unloaded on them, saying that all of Hogwarts should support BOTH Champions. Shortly after, the badges vanished, replaced with simple ones that said "Potter and Diggory to Win". The original badges, however, were snapped up gleefully by the Slytherins, who bore them proudly on their "Potter Stinks" side everywhere.

A conflict with Draco ended up with Hermione headed to the Hospital Wing with teeth the size of a beaver's. Goyle, as well, had to go with boils sprouting all over his face. Professor Snape had seen the entire exchange, however, and noted that the spells came from Harry and Malfoy. He therefore, in an unexpected show of fairness, docked BOTH houses fifty points, and gave both boys a detention - to be served separately.

During Potions that day, Harry was called to the Headmaster's office for what was called a 'Photo Op'. He encountered the other three Champions, and while the reception from Fleur and Krum was slightly cold and condescending, Cedric decided that Harry deserved the post at least as much as he did, and warmly greeted him. He also encountered a reporter named Rita Skeeter, and when he saw her demonstration of her Quick Quotes Quill, declined to be interviewed with it. She was disgruntled, but wrote the interview with a normal quill. She had barely gotten past asking him if he even remembered his parents, when Dumbledore interrupted for the Weighing of the Wands.

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"DRAGONS?" exclaimed Hermione.

"Harry immediately clamped his hands over her mouth. "Keep it down," he hissed.

Ginny was chewing on the end of a strand of long red hair. "Do you know what you'll have to do?" she asked.

He shok his head. "No clue. All I know is I have toget past them for some reason. So I need to learn something that can stop one."

Ron's mouth was still open in shock. The four were in their usual corner of the common room, and most of the rest of gryffindor had gone to bed. Eventually, he got his voice back. "I dunno, mate. Maybe we could ask Charlie..."

Harry shook his head. "No, Ron. He's one of the handlers here for the Tournament. If I asked him how to deal with dragons, he'd know in a heartbeat."

Hermione looked at her three best friends. "Well... we could probably start by finding out what DOESN'T affect them. Then we can look for something that does."

Ron chuckled a bit, and in a fit of daring he had never had before, ruffled her hair. "That's your department, 'Mione."

Ginny's eyes widened, and she turned to Harry. 'Mione?' she mouthed incredulously. Harry only shrugged, and grinned quite madly.

Hermione, on the other hand, was somewhat flustered. With one hand, she began the laborious task of straightening out her bushy brown hair. "Well, of COURSE it is. But don't forget, Ron, you're the strategist, oh great Chessmaster."

This caused Ron to suddenly sit upright and blink a bit. "Strategist? But, umm, I mean, it's only Chess."

Harry laughed out loud. "And Go, and Shogi, and Risk, and Stratego." He had introduced Ron to these various games over the years, and had yet to find one he could beat the redheaded boy at. "And Quidditch - you know more plays than half the pro team Captains - put together!"

Turning as red as his hair, Ron shrugged. "Umm, well, okay, I guess. I could probably think of something."

"Please do," said Harry. "Because right now, I don't for the LIFE of me have a clue."

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A/N: Ah, yes, events are changing, yet staying the same. As a guideline, if it's something Harry, Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore, or the Dursleys could not have affected, it will still probably still happen. But as time goes on, the changes will ripple out. For example, Wormtail is now a cackling lunatic, quite feral and vicious. Almost a Dire Rat, y'might say, after his nightmarish time in Azkaban. Snape... well, you'll see what will REALLY happen to Snape. And as for the others... time will tell.

Ah, my reviews! Thank you so much, please keep letting me know what you think of the chapters!

Jessa L'Rynn:  
Exactly, like I just said above. And as for Snape... who can say...

Harry94Ginny / nomoreseverusHarryslash:  
Why thank you, and I shall continue. :D

PlatinumRoseLady:  
Oooh, FOUR dozen! But how am I supposed to snack on a standing ovation:D

caillion:  
Oops. I write in Notepad, because it's easier for me, and of course, it has no spellcheck... I'll get on those spelling mistakes ASAP (9 times out of 10 they're either miskeys or I rushed past myself). As for Harry's coping ability, who knows. On the one hand, he wasn't forced to grow up "too soon", but on the other, he also knows when it's time to seek help from others. And yes, Ginny will get a chance to shine early.

A note on Ginny. JKR herself noted Ginny would have to get rid of the crush and be a friend to Harry before she could ever be anything more. Well, this conscientious version of Harry is both letting her go on the 'Trio's' adventures, yet is also not pushing or rushing her. She's spending a LOT more time around him than Canon Ginny did, and sees his TRUE qualities a lot sooner. Her crush has probably already been replaced with a healthy dose of respect, and the attraction is definitely there... 


	14. Chapter 14: Goblet of Fire II

A/N: And welcome back to "A Better Man".

A little note here. While the change in the timeline primarily DIRECTLY affected Vernon, in his decision that Family was more important than anything else, it's that decision's effects on HARRY that will have the most dramatic impact. He is, after all, the hero of the core tales. However, I promise that soon we will get a chance to look in on Privet Drive, and see what life is like for Vernon and Petunia while Harry is at Hogwarts and Dudders is at Smeltings...

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Well, maybe this computer. But JKR is a wonderful person who lets us play in her toybox, so it's all good. And this is written with as much respect and love for the characters as I can.

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Chapter 14: Goblet of Fire part II

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Harmione sighed, and set another sheet of parchment aside on her desk. It was filled with a list of ideas from Ron, all of which had been shot down by the Gryffindor Four for one reason or another. The conjunctivitis curse would work, but would make the dragon as likely to step on him in a panic as breathe on him, while nearly every single other tactic involving spells of any kind had been rejected because the spells just wouldn't work on the dragon, or were too difficult for all but the strongest of mages to cast.

Ron glanced at the sheet. "I dunno," he said, "I still think the tickling hex on its eyes might help.

Ginny snorted. "Ron you just can't tickle someone's eyes. It's not a directly targeted spell, it's an engulfing spell. And dragons, and I quote the book, 'are so non-ticklish this spell does little more than prompt them to exhale their noxious flames upon the caster'. So it's worse than useless, it makes his job harder."

Harry glanced at the redheaded girl. "What do you mean, engulfing? It's just a ray of light, it doesn't cover the whole target."

Ginny shrugged. "I heard Professor Flitwick talking to some NEWT students about it. Apparantly some spells, like the cutting hex, can be targeted at a specific location. Other spells, like the tickling hex or the Cruciatus, affect the entire target if they hit even the slightest part. They call them engulfing spells."

Harry grew thoughtful. "Well, we know the dragon's eyes are vulnerable. But I don't want to hurt it, I mean, it's just an animal. And that would just be downright cruel."

Hermione nodded. "Exactly! Almost as cruel as the enslavement practiced on House Elves for centuries by wizards and witches who should..."

Sensing another half hour long rant building, which would likely end in another row between Ron and Hermione, Harry interrupted. "Actually, Hermione, I found something in one of my books that might change the way you look at things, where House Elves are concerned." It seems that after learning about house elves from Harry in second year, Hermione had become outrged at the thought of Elven Enslavement. Harry secretly blamed her glorified image of elves on JRR Tolkein. This stopped the bushy haired young witch cold. "Oh? What?"

"The origin of house Elves. It seems they weren't even really living beings at first, you see." He dug around in the various books he had gotten from the library, until he found the "Physiologus Mysticae", an wizard's old bestiary from the Middle Ages. "It says here that the first House Elves were actually a form of construct. Wizards with great wealth would mold a statue of solid silver, and infuse the statue with certain expensive and rare potions, including his or her own blood."

"That's a bit gruesome," interjected Ginny.

"Yeah, but from there it's not so bad. Apparantly, House Elves at first had absolutely no form of intelligence or initiative at all. And the wizards discovered, to their dismay, that one of these early house elves would simply cease working if they were given clothing by the wizard or witch whose blood was used in the potions." Harry scanned down the page, summarizing for his friends. "Ah, here it is. It wasn't until a House Elf's master died that they actually began to become living beings, but not in the traditional sense."

"But if they're living beings..." began Hermione.

"Hold on," said Harry. "See, according to this, there are three parts to a living thing - the body, soul, and life-force. Even roaches have souls, if you will, but they're basically just a tiny fragment of soul-stuff. The life-force is basically what binds the soul to the body."

Ginny pursed her lips. "So by using their own blood in the potion, they made a bond with the House Elf, right?"

"Exactly." Harry skimmed down the page a bit more. "So, when the wizard or witch died, and their life force evaporated into the... the Ether, it says, some of that would follow the bond, and attach itself to the quasi... quasianimate construct." Harry shook his head at the overcomplicated word, wondering why the book just didn't say 'partially alive', instead.

"So all the house elves alive today..." began Hermione yet again.

"Exactly. All of them are the descendants of constructs who outlived their masters. And that's where the rules began to change." Harry turned the page. "It says here that since they were created as household servants, the bond was actually dependant on that. So as long as they serve a family, the bond stays strong, and their life force stays powerful. But if they lose the bond, or are cast out of a family, or even if all of the family they're bound to are dead, then their life force begins to fade."

Hermione blanched. "Then a house elf that's sacked, like Winky was by Mr. Crouch... begins to DIE?"

"Not always," said Harry. "They just begin to grow weaker and weaker. Somehow, some time between their first creation and the modern day, a significant number of house elves have been born with souls. From the way he acts, and the fact that he doesn't seem to be dying anytime soon, I'd say Dobby probably falls into this category. Winky, though, I don't know. I guess if she doesn't have a soul, it is possible that she will, in fact, die."

The bushy haired brunette's eyes began to water. Ginny, knowing what was going through her friend's head, found her own starting to water as well. "Poor Winky," Hermione said. "Is there anything that can be done to help her?"

POP! "Begging young masters and mistresses pardon," came a watery voice from behind them, "but something is being done already for Winky, it is."

Harry turned to look behind him. "Dobby!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He grinned at the odd little creature, who started jumping for joy.

"Oh, great and powerful Harry Potter remembers Dobby, and smiles at him! Yay!' The house elf then started to do a little dance, then stopped. "Oh! Master Harry Potter asked Dobby a question, he did! Sorry, Master Harry Potter! But as for Winky and Dobby, we is working at Hogwarts now."

"Hogwarts has house elves?" exclaimed a surprised Hermione.

Dobby nodded. "When a house elf is given clothes, there is often nowhere to go. So the great and noble Master Albus Dumbledore takes them in, and gives them a place to clean and work and be happy in."

"But if he takes you in," said the uncomprehending Hermione, "then why do you still work?"

Before Dobby could answer, Harry held his hand up. "Let me try, Dobby. Hermione, you've seen sheepdogs working with farmers before, right?"

"Yes, but I fail to see how that applies."

"Have you ever seen what a sheepdog does if he's owned by a family, and not a farmer?"

Hermione frowned. "No, why?"

"Because they still try to herd things, like little unruly children running down the halls. It's in their nature to protect their charges and to keep them together."

A light went on in Hermione's head. "And it's in the nature of the House Elf to cook and clean, and be discreet when they do."

"Exactly," said Harry. "See, you CAN go out and do something to make life better for house elves, but not from their side. It's the wizards and witches, like the Malfoys, who need to learn."

Dobby's eyes were shining brightly, and his hands clenched together almost in prayer as he listened. "Oh, so wise! So WISE is Master Harry Potter, he is! Dobby wishes he could... he could... no, Dobby cannot!" He suddenly raced towards the wall, headfirst.

"Dobby, no!" shouted Ginny, as Harry bolted off the couch and just barely caught the little creature in time. "What was that for?" the redhead asked.

"Dobby was about to betray Master Albus Dumbledore, he was," wailed the elf. "And so Dobby needed to be punished. WAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Harry soom found his shirt was growing quite wet. "Umm, Dobby, were you about to ask if I could be your new master?" he queried.

Dobby nodded, and blew his nose into his hands, then flicked his hands and the bogeys vanished in a blue spark. "Dobby was, Master Harry Potter. But to do that would be to betray Dobby's current Master, the great and mighty Master Albus Dumbledore, for someone else. And Dobby needed punishing for that."

Hermione sighed deeply, and fought a private war inside yourself. Suddenly, a solution just popped into her head. "Dobby, if you really think you should be punished, then why not go to the Headmaster, himself, and ask him what your punishment should be?"

Dobby's eyes grew wide, and ever so slightly fearful. Then he drew himself up to his full, miniscule height, and nodded. "Yes, Mistress Ganger. Dobby will do that." And then suddenly, he vanished with a loud POP.

"Mental, that one," muttered Harry.

"Tell me about it," agreed Ginny. "Did you see the way he just flew at that wall?"

"THAT'S IT!" shouted Ron, startling everyone in the common room.

"The wall, or Dobby?" asked a confused Harry.

"Err, Dobby was here? Sorry, I was thinking about the dragon thing. And what you just said, Ginny, gave me a great idea!"

"That Dobby was mental?" she asked.

"No, no, no, that he flew at the wall. He flew!" he exclaimed, gesticulating in his excitement.

"Honestly, Ronald, it was just a figure of speech," huffed Hermione.

"I know, I know. But it gave me my idea." He sat back down, and drew the other three around him. "Look, Professor Flitwick's been going over summoning charms, right?" They all nodded, and he continued. "Then once the task starts, summon your broom, Harry! Fly! You can outfly anything this side of the pond, so a bulky, heavy old dragon should be snap to avoid!"

Eyes widened, and grins spread. "That's BRILLIANT!" said Hermione, and she impulsively reached out and hugged Ron.

Time froze.

Harry was looking at Ron, and was having a hard time keeping from laughing. The youngest male Weasley had suddenly found himself in close proximity with one of his best friends, and apparantly had just realized that she was, in fact, a girl. He had started to return the hug, but his discovery startled him, and meant that his arms were frozen, half outstretched.

Ginny, on the other hand, was looking at Hermione's face as she just realized what she had done. Utterly terrified, Ginny couldn't decide if her bushy-haired friend was on the verge of running off in panic at her actions, or breaking into tears that Ron didn't respond. She privately suspected both.

After an eternity, but was actually probably closer to half a second, the tableau was shattered by the third POP of the evening, as a joyous and bouncing Dobby re-appeared. "Joy, oh joy, Master Harry Potter! Master Albus Dumbledore says that Dobby can transfer his bond to you! And with no punishment!" After a half second, he cocked his head to the side. "Begging sirs and ma'ams' pardons, but is Dobby interrupting something?"

zzzzzzz

The day of the First Task arrived, and Harry's nervousness mounted. He had never been THAT exceptional at Charms, that was more of Hermione's specialty. Still, he was confident that he could summon his broom... if the rampaging herd of pentapods would ever leave his stomach alone.

He heard, more than saw, what happened in the enclosure as each Champion entered the ring to get their golden egg. The play-by-play by Ludo Bagman actually did more harm than good, as he heard only hints of what had happened, and not what really did. Finally, his turn came.

Looking back on it later on in the year, Harry was convinced that it was adrenaline that made him fly as well as he did that day. Though he had been assigned a Hungarian Horntail, the most vicious of the lot, he flew rings around it, only getting a torn robe and a slightly cut shoulder as he got his egg faster than any of the other Champions. Of course, Karkaroff gave him an abysmal score, but he was tied for first place with Viktor Krum.

Harry and his friends discovered at the party that night that the egg, when opened, made a HORRENDOUS squealing noise. It was so bad that one of the windows threatened to shake itself apart. Closing it rapidly, Harry rushed up to put it in his trunk, to keep from spoiling the party.

The Yule Ball was announced, to the joy and dismay of the Fourth Years and up, as appropriate to their opinions about such things. And while it provided Harry with a welcome distracion from solving the riddle of the Golden Egg, it brought along with it a new set of problems.

zzzzzzz

With Divination over, and the end of classes for the day, Harry walked down the hall towards the staircase to the seventh floor, and Gryffindor Tower. Or at least he was, until a hand reached out from behind a suit of armor, and snatched him.

Harry found himself being quickly dragged into an empty classroom, and heard the door shut behind him. He suddenly turned, wand out, to see who had done this to him.

"Harry, put that away, it's me!" said Hermione.

"Huh? Why'd you pull me into this classroom?"

"I... I have a problem..." said his studious friend.

Harry was taken aback. "You do? Well wait here, I'll get Ginny and Ron and we'll..."

"NO! I mean, please, Harry, you're the only one who knows... part of it... so you're the only one I can talk to about it."

"And what's it about?" he asked.

"The Yule Ball."

"Well?"

Hermione sighed. "I've been hoping against hope that Ron would ask me... but he hasn't, so far. And... and I'm afraid he won't."

Harry sat down on the edge of the teacher's desk. "Aww, come on, Hermione. He's thick as a brick, you know that. And on top of that, he may have Gryffindor Courage when facing giant chess sets, tunnels into doom inside girls' bathrooms, and escaped shapeshifting convicts, but he's a right coward when it comes to anything dealing with feelings and such."

"That's... that's not all," Hermione stammered. She then said something so quietly and quickly that Harry couldn't make it out.

"What was that?"

"I said ViktorKrumaskedmetotheballandIsaidI'dneedmoretimetothinkaboutit."

Harry grinned. "Okay, I heard something about Viktor Krum has mead in Bali,and personally, I don't know why he'd want to get drunk on a tropical island. A little slower, please, and in English?"

Hermione slapped him on the shoulder and growled. "I said Viktor Krum asked me to the ball."

"And?"

"And I said I'd need more time to think about it." She then began pacing back and forth, rubbing her hands. "Oh, what if Ron doesn't ask me? I'll have to go with Viktor, and I really don't want o do that," she wailed.

Harry crossed his arms, and forced a grin off his face by affecting a scowl. "You do realize, of course, that Krum has an entire fan club of girls just waiting for him to ask them, right? That you have what half of the girls at Hogwarts wants, including the visiting girls from the other schools?"

"I don't care, I want Ron to ask me!" she cried.

"Well, at least you admit it, now," he chuckled. "Unlike second year, on the train ride back home."

"But what am I going to do? How will I get Ron to ask me?"

Harry considered for a moment. "I guess the obvious thing to do would be to...no, no, you could never do that."

"What?"

"Nope, sorry, it's too strenuous. I'm not quite certain if you have the cast iron stomach for it."

"Harry, PLEASE!"

"Are you absolutely certain you want Ron to ask you to the ball?" he asked.

"Yes, I'll do anything to get him to ask me, PLEASE, tell me what I need to do!" she begged.

"Flirt."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She stared at Harry for a long moment. Somewhere outside the classroom window, an owl hooted. Eventually, Harry began to get worried that he had broken her. "Err, you Do know how to flirt, right?"

Hermione collapsed in a chair, defeated. "No," she admitted. Desparate to change the subject, she suddenly looked up at Harry. "And have you asked Ginny, yet?" she demanded.

"Wha? Huh? Who?"

"Ginny - you know, short, red hair, your eyes rarely leave her face or... other body parts?" she teased.

Harry boggled. "They don't? I do? I stare?"

She fixed him with a look. "It's obvious, Harry. To the girls, at least. Why do you think none of the others have been pestering you to see if you'll take them?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Well, I'm just me. It's not like I'm Viktor Krum or anything."

"No, you're just the Boy-Who-Lived, slayer of basilisks and Dark Lords, Hero of Hogwarts, and one of the most attractive boys in our year," she retorted.

"Err... right. As for Ginny, I..." He stopped, and tried to start again. "See, I... I didn't even..."

"Didn't even what?"

Silence reigned for a moment, then Harry slumped a bit in defeat. "I didn't even realize I liked her like that. I guess it's easier to see it in other people than in myself." He looked up at her. "But what if she says no? I mean, she managed to get over that silly crush last year."

Hermione grinned. "I'll agree to that. Her silly crush on 'The Boy Who Lived' is over. Her not so silly crush on Harry Potter, though..."

"She likes me?" Harry's ears perked up a bit. "You know for a fact she likes me?"

She shrugged. "Not for a fact, no. But you'll never know unless you ask her to the Ball."

zzzzzzz

Harry was nervous. No, scratch that, he was beyond nervous. And the primary reason he was so frazzled on a Saturday afternoon had to do with the two young ladies using him for flirting practice.

When Hermione had confessed to him that she didn't know how to flirt, Harry had gotten the bright idea to owl Sirius, who would CERTAINLY know someone to help Hermione learn how to flirt. And it turned out that someone was Nymphadora Tonks, the young Auror that Harry and Hermione had delivered Buckbeak to the previous year.Of course, Sirius had INSISTED on being present to watch the 'event', as he called it, and so had Remus. And the two remaining loyal Marauders had INSISTED that Harry be the 'target' of the flirting practice. Harry assumed they had probably also set up a muggle video camera somewhere under a disillusionment charm, just to humiliate him further.

Tonks, meanwhile, was whispering conspiratorially with Hermione. She then raised her voice to a stage whisper, and said, "Now THIS one really works if you're SURE he's physically attracted to you!" She shook her head, and her bright bublegum pink hair turned into flowing brown locks that cascaded down her back. She didn't alter her appearance, but she held herself more confidently, and with one hip cocked to the side.

Slowly, Tonks stalked Harry, hips swaying fro side to side. He found the movement almost hypnotic, and couldn't figure out what he was supposed to say or do. As she reached him, she langorously raised one hand, and brushed her fingertips across his chest. She circled him, still with swaying hips, and very blatantly stared up and down every inch of his form. When she had returned to the front, she stared right in his eyes, riveting his attention on them. Her haind trailed up from his waistline to the back of his neck, and she virtually breathed, "You'll do." She then immediately grabbed his Hogwart's tie, pivoted on her heel, and started tugging. Obediently, he followed her as she led him to the other side of the room.(1)

Sirius and Remus, meanwhile were staring almost slack-jawed. The werewolf rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Wow... is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

Tonks dropped Harry's tie, and she and Hermione doubled over laughing. "MERLIN I love that one," giggled the young Auror.

Hermione pouted. "But i can't do that one yet. I mean, you've got curves and things I don't yet. And I'm not certain Ron is attracted to me."

Harry was still standing there, blinking. Sirius sidled up to him, and closed his jaw for him. "Got a spot of drool on your lip, Pup," he quipped.

Harry immediately reached up to touch his mouth, but found no drool. Snapping back to his senses, he glared at the older man. "Not funny, Uncle Sirius."

Tonks winked at Harry. "Oh, I disagree. It was utterly hilarious!" She then broke down into giggles again.

Hermione grinned. "You won't mind if i don't 'practice' that one on you, right Harry?"

"No, no, no, that's quite alright. I think I need to sit down for a moment, anyway," he muttered, staggering to the side of the room where a chair rested against the wall.

Hermione and Tonks went back to talking, and Sirius dragged Remus to the center of the room to be their "target" while the auror went to sit next to his Godson. "That Tonks is something, eh?"

Harry nodded. "I knew it was just for demonstration, but I still couldn't help myself. It was almost like the Imperius curse, but the little voice in the back of my mind was saying some positively indecent things instead of arguing."

With a barking laugh, Sirius gently clapped his godson on the shoulder. "Did you know she's my cousin?" he asked. "Daughter of Andromeda, my favorite cousin in the world. Though she IS catching up to her mother rapidly in that regard."

Harry looked up. "I thought you said your family was all dark magic and Pureblood nonsense, though?"

"They are... except me, Andromeda, and Andromeda's family. She married a muggle, named Ted Tonks." Sirius grinned. "Ted's a great guy, with a really cracking sense of humor. If he'd have been born a wizard, he could have been a Marauder at Hogwarts."

"Umm, Harry?" asked a tenative voice in front of him. He turned... and found himself staring into chocolate brown eyes. Freckles dotted the cheeks below, and flowing red hair cascaded down around them. "Do you need a little practice, too?"

"G-Ginny?" blurted the ever so eloquent and agile Boy-Who-Lived as he promptly fell out of his chair trying to get up.

Ginny smiled a lopsided smile, and spoke with a decidedly non-Ginny voice. "You're right, Hermione, he IS!"

Before his amazed eyes, Ginny's entire frame seemed to flow like water until it had reshaped itself into the form of Tonks. The hair was still long and red, but a shake of her head brought it back to bubblegum pink and spiky. She extended a hand, saying, "Here, let me help you up."

Sirius grinned broadly. "So, there's a REASON you like spending so much time at the Burrow, eh?"

Lupin, on the other hand, looked nonplussed. "Please, Padfoot. Remember Potters and redheads. I had it figured out on my first day of classes."

Unfortunately, as Tonks started to drag harry back to a standing position, their feet somehow got tangled. Reaching out for something to arrest her fall, Tonks had grabbed Lupin's sleeve, dragging him off balance and tumbling into them. Harry managed to roll free and back to his feet, but his 'fuzzyfather' wasn't quite so lucky. He had landed on the bottom, with the young Auror on top of him in quite a compromising position.

A strange look stole across Sirius's face, then he started doing everything he could to hold back laughter. Meanwhile, the two on the ground just blinked at each other. Finally, Tonks winked, not moving from where she was, and said, "Why hello, fancy meeting you here!"

Lupin turned a funny shade of pink. It wasn't the brilliant red glow of an embarrassed Weasley, or the faint red splotches Dudley would get, but it was definitely the werewolf's attempt at a blush. "Well, it IS my home, you know," he croaked out.

Tonks shifted herself, putting one elbow on his chest and resting her chin in that palm. With her other hand, she started trailing lazy circles on the floor next to his head. Remus kept glancing from her face, to the hand on the floor, to her chest - and harry quickly realized that last location his eyes visited was the reason she had taken her current pose. "And such a nice home it is, with thisoh so comfortable carpet," she grinned. "Tell me, do you and your female visitors always test how comfortable the carpet is?"

As Remus blushed further and started stammering, Sirius couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. "That! Now THAT is flirting with a capital F! Even turns a potentially embarrassing situation into a chance to flirt!"

Hermione grinned, and pulled out a small pad of paper. "So should I start taking notes, Professor Tonks?"

Not moving from where she was, Tonks nodded. "Most definitely. But for now, class dismissed!"

"Okay, kiddies," chuckled Sirius, "time to get back to Hogwarts. We'll take the Bike." He started ushering Harry and Hermione out of the room, turning his head back slightly as he added, "Have fun you two, don't do anything I wouldn't!"

Remus started sputtering, but not really moving, and Tonks winked at her cousin. "That doesn't leave a lot out," she said, and trailed her finger from the carpet up to the corner of the werewolf's jaw.

"But.. but.. I..." Remus struggled to say, but found a finger on his lips inexplicably silenced him right as Sirius and the kids headed out the door.

zzzzzzz

It was a day later, and this time it was Ron who was a nervous wreck. Apparantly Hermione had taken herlessons to heart, and was letting the poor lad have it with both barrels. He had walked into more doorways in the previous twenty-four hours than he had during the entire rest of his Hogwarts career combined, and had managed only to blurt out a few one word sentences in her presence since her relentless campaign began.

This wasn't lost on the rest of the Gryffindors, either. Dean and Seamus constantly teased Ron about it, while Lavender and Parvaiti grinned, and would often confer with Hermione, tittering and glancing at Ron as they did so. This usually sent the poor young Weasley out of the room, face as red as fire.

That evening, Neville plopped himself down next to Harry. "Hiya, Harry. Who you going to the Ball with?" he asked.

Harry stammered a bit. "I... I haven't asked anyone yet. You?"

Neville sighed. "I WAS going to ask Hermione, but it's pretty obvious now who she wants to go with."

Harry snickered. "Even Ron should know by now. If he doesn't, he's dafter than I thought. So who are you going to ask now?"

Neville shrugged. "I considered asking Ginny," he began, but noticed the sudden tenseness of his friend's shoulders. "But on consideration, I think I'm going to ask Hannah Abbot."

"She's a nice girl,' noted Harry, as he visibly relaxed. He also privately thought that Neville and Hannah would probably make a very good couple somedy. Definitely much better than Neville and Ginny, certainly.

They sat for a while in comanionable silence, staring into the fireplace, when they heard the third year girls coming down the stairs. Neville nudged Harry, and nodded towards the stairs. "Better ask her now, while you can," he said. "I heard, um, Michael Corner, was talking about asking her."

Harry's eyes grew wide, then narrowed. With a firm set to his jaw, he started to get up off the couch, but just as suddenly deflated. "I can't," he squeaked out.

"If you don't do it right now, Harry, I will!" hissed Neville.

That was the last bit of encouragement Harry needed. He threw himself off the couch, He setpped around the furniture, and walked up to Ginny and her friends. "Umm... err, Ginny? Can... can I talk to you for a second?"

Slightly surprised, she glanced at her friends, then back to Harry. "Of course. Why?"

He started shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Umm, over there?" he said, motioning vaguely to a relatively unoccupied corner of the common rooom.

She nodded, eyes wide, and followed him over there. "What did you need to talk to me about?" she asked.

"WouldyougototheballwithmeGinny?" he blurted out in a half mumble.

Ginny froze. She was certain she could not have heard what she thought she heard. "Huh?" she said intelligently as her jaw dropped.

Harry steeled himself. 'Fighting basilisks... facing Voldemort... meeting ten foot tall meat eating talking spiders... dealing with dementors... I did those, i can do this,' he thought forcefully to himself. "Umm... Would you..umm... go to the ball? With me, I mean?" he stammered out.

"I DID hear what I thought I heard,' she muttered to herself as her eyes grew wide. She stared into his bottle-green eys, and couldn't do anything but nod.

As harry felt the biggest smile of his life stretch across his face, and his eyes lit up like floodlamps, they were surprised by a series of cheers and whistles from all across the common room. "It's about damn time," chortled Dean. "You almost cost me five galleons, Harry!"

zzzzzzz

Ron collapsed onto his bed later that night, eyes wide. Harry was simply humming to himself with a grin ten times bigger than his face, and Dean and Seamus simply argued the merits of football versus quidditch. Under normal circumstances, Ron would have jumped into that conversation in a heartbeat, but this wasn't normal.

"Harry... Harry... you awake?" asked Ron.

"A-yup!" came the cheerful reply.

"Harry... I think I'm losing it. Going barmy. Totally mental." Ron sounded worried. "What if I am?"

"Too late, mate, you've been mental the hole time I've known you," joked Harry.

"Harry, I'm SERIOUS!" complained Ron.

"No you're not," said Harry, "you're red haired and gangly, while..."

"STOP! Harry, that joke was old before we were born. And I need help! Please!" he begged.

Hrry propped himself up on one elbow. "Okay, okay. So what's your problem, then?"

"I... I... um, remember back before the First Task? When we figured out how you'd handle it?" he asked.

"You mean when YOU figured out how I'd handle it. But yes, why?"

Ron fidgeted. "Umm... well, when Hermione hugged me, it felt... different."

Harry fought to keep a grin off his face. "Oh. Thet's probably because of puberty, you know. Didn't your father ever give you The Talk?"

Ron tossed a pillow. "No, you berk. I mean inside. It... it didn't feel like a friend was hugging me. It felt... better."

Nodding sagely, Harry said, "Aaaah, young Jedi. Felt the Force, you did, then?"

This stopped Ron in his tracks. "Jedi? Felt the Force? Harry, what in the bloody blue blazes are you talking about?"

"Sorry," said Harry, shaking his head, "a muggle quote, don't worry about it. Go on."

"Well, I thought it was a one time thing, you know, like indigestion or somethin'."

Harry let out a snort before he could stop himself. Leave it to Ron to compare... THAT... with indigestion.

Ignoring his friend's outburst, Ron continued. "But today... today, I think I competely lost it. Everywhere I go, I see her. And... and I can't take my eyes off her. And she says things that I know mean one thing, but my mind wants to make them mean something totally different. Something a bit... rude."

The rest of the room had gone quiet, as Dean and Seamus had started listening in, but Ron hadn't noticed. "Go on. So why is this a problem?"

"Because it's HERMIONE!" exclaimed Ron as if that was the answer to everything. "I mean... she's been our friend since first year. Why would I think about a friend that way?"

Harry shrugged. "She's also a girl, Ron. And you're a guy. I mean, think about it. What would you tell me if I said I was starting to feel funny around Ginny? Not like a friend, but better?"

Ron grinned. "I'd say watch out for her temper, and I'll speak at your funeral after your first fight."

"Good," said Harry with a wink. "So when you say that about Hermione..."

"WAIT just a darn minute!" roared Ron. "What do you mean by 'good?"

Harry shrunk back a bit. "I... err... I'm taking Ginny to the Ball," he confessed.

Ron looked furious. "Don't you DARE, Harry! She's had that crush on you for years, don't you DARE play with her like that!"

"I am NOT playing with her!" insisted Harry. In a quieter voice, he added, "I really like her."

This seemed to deflate Ron. "Oh."

"Right."

"Harry... what should I do?"

Harry rolled over back onto his back. "That's obvious, Ron."

"What?"

"Ask Hermione to the Ball."

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End Of Chapter

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A/N:

A bit of a fluffy chapter, but I loved writing the 'flirting lessons' scene. :D

Recently, I've read a few AU fics where something DRASTICALLY different happened in what would effectively be Chapter One of the first book, far more drastic than my own 'ripple', yet the 'events' of the books are effectively unchanged. I realize that, at first, my changes may seem slight during the first 'book', but the events build up. For example, while Snape seems to have DRASTICALLY changed after the meeting in Lupin's office where he handed him the Wolfsbane potion in my fic, the change ws likely something growing in him over the preceeding two and a half years.

And don't worry... we're rapidly heading to the places where the changes become more drastic and obvious... ripples have a way of doubling bak upon their source once they've reached the shore, after all.

(1) By the way, this works. It really does. A girl did it to me once, and I was little more than a gibbering wreck willing to do nearly anything she asked. Then again, the "testing the carpet" bit also works... same girl, y'know. :D

Now for my reviews:

PlatinumRoselady:  
Aww... darnit. But thanks for the mittens, it just dropped forty degrees (fahrenheit) here in just a couple days. :D is staring to run out of room for the roses

Kickaha:  
Cool, I'll have to check it out. But URL's get strippe out by the system, so I'd have to Google it.

Mystical Witch:  
No, Harry will not get Dudley (J/K)... and your answer is in this chapter. :D

zmanjz:  
Thank you. I've been told I do good characters, my biggest trouble seems to be the 'background'... describing the setting and the appearances of the characters. But I'm working on it!

caillon:  
What i just set up will be revealed... when I get there. MWUAHAHAHAHAHA! 


	15. Chapter 15: Goblet of Fire III

A/N: Yep, I seem to be on a writing spree. I do that from time to time - weeks without writing, then two or three BAMBAMBAM! Anyway, here's the next installment of "A Better man".

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Chapter 15: Goblet of Fire III

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"I... I... I can't do it," moaned Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Harry Potter started shoving his best friend towards the stairs. "Yes, you bloody well can. I managed to ask Ginny, so you can ask Hermione."

"But... but... but what if she says 'no'?"

"Then I guess she'll go to the ball with Viktor Krum," sighed Harry.

"VIKTOR KRUM?" Ron's voice jumped several octaves, and his eyes grew as round as saucers. "Viktor Krum asked Hermione to the Ball?" He collapsed into a sitting position on his bed. "She'll never say yes to me, then. She's going to go with Viktor bloody Krum."

"Only if you don't get your tail down there and ask her NOW," snarled Harry. "Look, do you know why she told Viktor she'd have to think about it?"

"She told him she'd have to think about it?"

"Yes, you prat. Now can you guess why?"

Harry could almost beleive he smelled smoke as Ron tried to wrap his mind around that statement. Master strategist the boy might be, but some things just didn't seem to seep into his brain too well. Then there was a moment when he could swear he heard a loud 'CLICK', and Ron glanced up. "She wants someone else to ask her?"

"Exactly, Ron. Now get your arse down there and do the deed or I'll shove your trunk up there so far you'll taste your History of Magic book!"

Somewhat unsteadily, Ron managed to drag himself to his feet. Slowly, he made his way to the door, and down the staircase to the common room, Harry right behind.

They froze as they heard a voice say, "But what if he doesn't ask, Ginny?"

A second voice came back. "If that great git DOESN'T ask, Hermione, I'll bat-bogey hex him until his sinuses fall out. Besides, Harry's been talking with him, and you've been flirting just like Tonks showed you. He should be putty in your hands."

They heard a sniff, then Hermione's voice reached their ears. "O...okay. I'll give him one more chance, then."

Before anyone could say anything more, Ron found a size eight shoe placed against his derrierre, and a considerable amount of force applied. He stumbled off the last step into the common room, tripped over an ottoman, and slammed belly-firstinto the couch Ginny and Hermione were sitting at. The impact made him virtually flip over the back of the couch, and end up head-first in the cushions.

"Err, Hermione... ummm..." came his muffled voice from the cushions.

"Hold on, Ron, I think you'd better right yourself, first," snickered Ginny, as she helped him clamber completely over the couch, and then sit right-side up again, between his sister and his best female friend.

Hermione, on the other hand, merely sat, slightly stunned. His abrupt and unorthodox appearance, right as she had made her declaration about one last chance, caused an inordinate amount of confusion and questioning in her head. Had he heard her declaration? Why had he stumbled so dramatically? Was he really suited to physical comedy? As the last thought popped into her mind, accompanied by an image of Ron in a baggy black muggle suit, battered hat, and narrow mustache while twirling a cane, she couldn't help but emit a quick, squeaky giggle.

"Right... Umm... Hermione, I... I..." began Ron.

Ginny noticed Harry, currently balled up in the entrance to the boys' stairwell with a hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter. "I'll be over there, with Harry,' she said, and walked around the furniture. As soon as she got there, she cast the Area Silencing charm the third years had just learned, and both let loose with belly laughs that would have shaken the entire common room had they been audible.

Back on the couch, Hermione stared at Ron, eyes hopeful. "What do you want to tell me, Ron?" she prodded.

"I... I... want to... I..." Ron's eyes met hers, and any thought of what he wanted to say or do flew completely out of his head.

"Yes?" she asked. Then suddenly remembering part of Tonk's advice, she lightly brushed her fingertips over the back of his hand, not looking, as if it had almost been accidental.

This seemed to be just a bit too much, as Ron froze. His mouth was locked partially open, and his eyes stared blankly into hers.

"Ron? Ron?" she asked, poking him in the side a couple of times.

Lavender, who had also been in the common room to witness the spectacle, walked over. "I think you broke him, Hermione," she quipped.

This, of course, sent the two in the doorway to the boy's dormitory into fresh gales of laughter. "We have GOT to write this down," wheezed Harry, "It's comedy GOLD!"

A look of fear flashed across Hermione's face. "I didn't really break him, did I? I mean, was I pushing too hard? Did I flirt too much?"

Lavender smiled. "With someone as thick as Ron, I don't think there's such a thing as 'too much flirting'. And I think I know how to snap him out of it," she said, conspiratorially.

"How? Please, tell me how?" begged Hermione.

Triumph on her face, Lavender said, "I'll do better than that, I'll show you!" She suddenly grabbed the back of Hermione's head with one hand, the back of Ron's head with the other, and quickly brought the two together.

By pure chance, Ron's lips had ended up in contact with Hermione's chin, shile hers had ended up right beside his nose. Now Hermione froze, and Ron's eyes widened even further. Ginny and Harry started having trouble breathing from laughter.

After a heartbeat, Ron slowly slid his mouth up a little, and pecked hermione on the lips. This seemed to break her own spell, and she growled somewhere in the back of her throat. "Umm, what..." began Ron.

He couldn't say anything more for a few moments, as Hermione suddenly launched herself at him like a big cat pouncing its prey. Their lips met, and Ron could almost swear he heard Hermione... purring?

After a few timeless seconds, Hermione eased up her grip and sat up. She gathered herself together, and sat like a proper lady next to him. "Now, Ronald, was there something you wanted to ask me?"

"Go... dance... me?" was all the dazed Ron could manage to stammer out.

Hermione deigned to favor Ron with a knowing smile. "Why, yes, Ronald, I would positively love for you to escort me to the ball. Now if you will excuse me, I beleive I must prepare myself for bed. It /is/ drawing late."

At this point, Lavender decided the best place to be was with the laughing idiots near the stairwell. Once there, she, too, collapsed and cut loose with guffaws, intersperesed with tiny giggles that would send the other two into fresh rounds themselves.

As the three held each other up, or failed to as the case may be, Seamus stepped through the portrait hole. Noting the frazzled and dazed Ron on the couch, the retreating form of Hermione as she walked gingerly up the stairs, and the laughing trio, he decided he had to know. Walking over to the three on the floor, and coincidentally within the area of the silencing charm, he asked, "What did I miss?"

Six eyes blinked at Seamus owlishly, reminding him uncomfortably of a certain Ravenclaw a year behind them all. They stared at him for several long moments. "What?" he asked. Their only response was to fall back into laughter, rolling around on the floor and cackling with glee.

"All of Gryffindor Tower's gone positively mental," he muttered, stepping over his friends and walking upstairs to the dorm.

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Minerva McGonnegal walked up to the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the headmaster's private staircase. "Acid Pops," she declared. The gargoyle sprang to life, and actually bowed to her slightly, as she walked up the steps, and knocked politely on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in, Minerva," came the voice on the other side.

She opened the door, and stepped in. She also saw the Headmaster was not alone - the former DADA teacher, werewolf, and Marauder named Remus Lupin was sitting in a comfortable chair by the fireplace. She smiled inwardly - while she loved all of her students, Remus, his friend Sirius, and their brother in heart James had been three of her personal favorites, no matter how much they exasperated her at times. "Good evening Albus, Remus," she said.

"Please, have a seat," asked Dumbledore, and he conjureda duplicate of her favorite armchair from the Teacher's Lounge next to Remus's chair. "I was simply discussing with Remus his new position, as it were."

McGonegall turned a proud smile on Lupin. "You must be so happy, Remus. It's literally a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Remus grinned at her. "It most certainly is, Minerva. And the best part is, Fudge can't say anything about it."

The headmaster chuckled. "No, he most certainly cannot. Now, Minerva, what was it you wished to see me about?"

The transfiguration professor sighed, a smile creeping across her lips but sadness in her eyes. "I have just come from my office, where I was looking in on my Common Room, though the special window. And what I saw gave me such hope... yet filled me with such fear..." She trailed off, a tear in her eye.

Stroking his long, luxurious beard, Dumbledore nodded. "I can only guess what that may have been. Perhaps young boys making fools of themselves to impress a girl, hoping for a date to the ball? Their friends teasing and joking, and secretly wishing them well?"

Remus got a misty look in his own eyes. "Ah, yes... I remember Sixth Year, and the chaos we had for that Valentine's Ball."

McGonnagal nodded. "Albus... THAT is what these children are supposed to be like. They should not be facing Dark Lords and basilisks, or preparing to face a war." She felt tears welling up in her eyes, "They should be children, and be allowed to act like children."

"I take it Harry was involved in one way or another to provoke such a statement," observed Remus. He put a hand on his former teacher's shoulder, and she reached her own up and patted it affectionately. "Minerva, I know it's hard. Remember, when Sirius, James, Lily and I graduated, the first years were entering Hogwarts on the eve of war. I doubt if they had a chance to be children, either. And thinking about it breaks my heart."

"Then what can we DO for them?" she demanded. "We MUST be able to do something."

Albus smiled, eyes not so much twinkling as shining. "We do what we must, Minerva. We teach them everything we can during class, impress upon them the importance of knowledge, and the importance of knowing WHEN to use that knowledge. And when class is not in session... we allow them to be children. We hold fast to such things as Hogsmeade visits, and special celebrations throughout the year. And if they come to us for guidance, we give them what wisdom, and love, we can."

A single tear finally broke away from the rest, and traced a shimmering path down McGonegall's cheek. "I understand, Albus. But it's so hard, sometimes..."

Dumbledore walked around his desk, his chair following shortly behind like an obedient puppy. He sat down facing Remus and the professor, making a triangle. He placed his own hand on hers, where it rested on Remus's. "Come, now, Minnie. Help us lighten our own spirits. What exactly happened in the common room?"

A burden weighing on her heart, but eased by sharing it, she allowed herself to describe Ron's romantic predicament. By the time she was through, her heart was much lighter, and her eyes twinkled as merrily as the Headmaster's.

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Harry and Ron would never remember much of the day leading to the ball. Their first conscious memories would be seeing their dates come sweeping down the girl's dormitory steps. Hermione's normally bushy hair was sleek and shiny, and twisted up in an elegant knot at the back of her head. Her robes were a diaphanous blue, and she seemed to carry herself like a princess. Ginny, meanwhile, had unleashed her hair in a crimson cascade, and wore fiery robes of gold and red. To Harry's eyes, she was a goddess of flame, and it took nearly two minutes for the girls to get their dates to stop staring, and get moving towards the dance.

Both Ginny and Harry were quite nervous, as the four Champions and their escorts were to open the Ball with the first dance. But once the music started, they found themselves swept up in the music, and each other, not even noticing when one song ended and another began.

However, at one point, a technical difficulty happened to shock them out of their virtual trance. Somehow one of the enchanted microphones being used by the Weird Sisters got too close to one of the magical speakers, and caused very loud and very painful feedback. This stunned everyone briefly, and the band apologized, and resumed playing. Hermione, however, suddenly got a very familiar look in her eyes. She dragged an uncomplaining Ron over to Harry and Ginny, saying "I've got it! Let's go outside and talk for a moment!"

On their way out, they noticed some of the other students and Champions for the first time, despite the fact that the Ball had been going for nearly an hour and a half. Viktor Krum had the beautiful Parvati Patil of gryffindor on his arm, and seemed quite enraptured by her. Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang likewise seemed to be paying a lot of attention to each other, but it was a more comfortable, familiar type of attention. Finally, Roger Davies seemed to feelhe was the luckiest man on Earth, as he had the honor of escorting Fleur, though her own expression seemed to be a bit more apprehensive.

Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were extremely well dressed, but despite their jealousy and dislike neither could think of anything disparaging to say about either Ginny or Hermione. Crabbe and Goyle seemed permanently stationed at the buffet in dress robes of forest green, looking for all the world like moss-covered boulders. And Hannah Abbot and Neville Longbottom were sharing a laugh together. Neither were especially well dressed, nor especially attractive, but they also were not unattractive or poorly dressed.

A few moments later, the Gryffindor Four found themselves outside the Hall, in the converted rose garden. It was now a hedge maze, with various bushes trimmed or enchanted to resemble statues. Brightly shining faeries flitted about the hedges, providing just enough light without being too bright, and often collecting around a couple walking in the maze, dimming their lights slightly and sighing with their own dreams of faerie romance.

Hermione led them deeper into the hedge maze, until they could talk over the noise of the Ball. Finally, near a hedge carved to resemble a rearing dragon, she stopped, and turned to them. Harry idly noticed she neverlet go of Ron's hand when she did. "Harry, I just had an idea about the egg, and how to figure out its clue."

Ron boggled a bit. "You did? How? When?"

She smiled at him. "During that feedback a few moments ago. Didn't you notice how it sounded like the clue from the egg?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah," said Harry. "So how do we muffle it to understand it?"

Ginny pursed her lips, and walked over to a bench on the side of the path. "Well, it's not just loud, it's very high pitched, too, so a partial silencing charm wouldn't make it understandable."

"What about covering it with loads of pillows?" asked Ron.

"Possible. But we have to come up with more than that, so if one thing doesn't work, we can try again," said Hermione. "Can anyone else think of a way to describe what it sounded like? That might help us."

Harry sat down next to Ginny and racked his brains. "A banshee... the cry of a mandrake root... a really loud and angry dolphin..."

"Dolphins! That's it!" said Ginny. "Open it underwater and see what it sounds like!"

"But where could we do that?" asked Harry.

Ron grinned, probably from having thought of it before Harry. "The lake, of course! We all know the giant squid is harmless, so you just go knee deep, hold your breath, and lay down in the water and open the egg."

"Excellent, Ron!' said Hermione. "Okay, now break time's over. Back to the ball we go," she grinned.

Ron looked around, and wrapped his arms around her. "Aww, do we have to? It's nice and dim out here, and there's nobody around..." Ginny coughed. "Okay, nobody around who isn't probably about to do the same thing..."

Harry bit back a lough, as his own arm snaked its way around Ginny's slender waist. However, he noticed a pair of figures twice as tall as the hedges making their way out of the Ball. "Umm... Ron... you DO know there's a full buffet in there, right?" Harry decided that he wanted to give his half-giant friend a little privacy, as they all knew he was quite taken with the equally massive Madame Maxine.

The look on his face was priceless, as his desire to fill his stomach warred with his desire to stay outside with Hermione. She started tugging on his hand. "We'd better get inside," she said, "before you decide my head looks like a honeyed ham while we're snogging."

Laughing, the quartet returned to the Ball, and danced (or ate) the rest of the night away.

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To Harry's dismay, the pillows did nothing to the sound of the egg but make it bearable, not understandable. So it looked like the lake would be his next stop. Knowing the other Champions may or may not have figured it out, he found a corner of the lake that was quite out of sight of the rest of the school, and stripped down to his boxers. He then plunged in, and opened the egg.

The painful squealing sound above water became an almost pleasant sounding song underwater:

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"Come seek us where our voices sound We cannot sing above the ground And while you're searching, ponder this:  
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took.  
But past an hour the prospect's black,  
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

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To his surprise, he heard whistles around him. Running out of breath, he raised his head, took in another gulp of air, and looked out deeper into the lake. To his surprise, he saw a froup of merpeople, nodding and grinning at him. They were ugly creatures, bt the attractive things of myth, but the smiles on their faces convinced him that they meant no harm. He waved, then surfaced again. Taking another breath, he opened the egg again, to fix the riddle in his memory.

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"So my guess is, I have to go underwater to get something they'll take from me. I dunno what it'll be, though. Maybe my firebolt, or the invisibility cloak. Or even the Marauder's map."

"An hour underwater?" asked Hermione. "There's a few charms you could use... but I'm not certain they'd actually help you swim any better, and the lake is huge."

Ron and Ginny looked as perplexed as Harry and Hermione. Then, a voice from outside their circle interrupted them. "Underwater? What about gillyweed?"

It was Neville Longbottom. "I was just reading about it," he said, holding a bok titled 'Magical Plants of the Medditeranean'. He grinned. "The books a Christmas present from Professor Moody."

"Gillyweed?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. It makes you grow gills, and it makes your hands and feet get all webbed, like a grindylow, kappa, or merman," he said.

"Perfect!" said Ginny. "But how will we get any here?"

"Dobby!" said Ron. "He's now your house elf, Harry, he could go get some for you! One of the duties of a house elf is to make purchases for his family, and they're authorized to make payment out of their family's vaults!"

Hermione seemed to struggle with this. She knew Dobby needed to be bound to keep his life force strong, but to her it almost seemed like taking advantage of the poor creature. Finally, realizing Harry hadn't asked the house elf to do anything since they bonded a few weeks ago, she decided it would likely be okay. "Well... call Dobby, and see if he comes," she suggested.

Harry cleared his voice. "Dobby!" he called.

POP! The little house elf appeared right in the middle of the four. He was standing up straight and proud, and bore a huge grin on his overly large mouth. He was wearing what, to Harry's eyes, looked like a miniature Muggle tuxedo. "What does Great and Noble Master harry Potter wish Dobby to do! Dobby will do ANYTHING!" he declared with pride.

They four just stared. Dobby faltered in his pose, and added, "This is uniform suggested by Missus Doozely," he explained. "She seem to like Dobby," he added with a grin, "though she insists on helping him with his chores."

"Doozely? Oh, right, Aunt Petunia," said harry. He grinned, imagining her playing with Dobby like a dress-up doll as an excuse to find him a proper 'uniform', then shook his head to clear it. "Dobby, I need you to find me some gillyweed. I'm not sure where you would go to buy it, but I need enough to last at least an hour and a half, preferably two hours, just in case."

"Of course Dobby knows where!" declared the house elf, smiling and bobbing his head up and down. "Dobby did potions shopping for... for his former master all the time."

"Excellent, Dobby. I don't need it right away, so don't get it just yet. I'll need it about a day before the Second Task, okay?"

"Right, oh Great and Noble Master Harry Potter, sir!"

"And please, just call me Harry. Don't call me Great, Noble, or Master, okay?" he grinned.

"Oh, and humble Harry Potter is as well!" said Dobby with wonder and adoration in his eyes. "Dobby shall do as you wish! But Dobby must go, Missus Doozey wants Dobby to help with taking down of Christmas Decorations!"

"Then I'll see you later," said Harry. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all said their goodbyes, and Dobby vanished with another loud POP.

The almost forgotten Neville just shook his head. "That is one strange house elf."

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End of Chapter

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A/N: Next up: The Second Task! With things being the same, yet different, who or what will be taken down with the Merpeople? Why is Rita Skeeter being so quiet? And what is Remus doing that even Fudge can't complain about? Find out next chapter... or so...

And for my reviewers:

Phoenix2500, Phyre's child13, Harry94Ginny:  
Heheh, thank you. But beleive it or not, I had even more fun writing the initial scene of this chapter. And Phyre's Child, to be honest, I'd reccomend that you not perform these flirting techniques unless you are old enough to pull them off. If you are... YOU GO, GIRL!

caillion:  
Oh, yes, I personally think Tonks would probably be one of the most die-hard flirters in the HP Universe, able to alter her curves enough to fit any given flirting style. :D

The Banisher:  
Thank you. If I'm not improving, then why write? I've seen "churn out the books" type authors, like a certain sci-fi author whose initials are P.A., just write tripe for the sake of a paycheck. But then there's real artists, like JKR, who add a special magic to everything they write.

ibfritz:  
Is this soon enough? And thanks! 


	16. Chapter 16: Goblet of Fire IV

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Sorry.

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Chapter 16: Goblet of Fire IV

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FLASHBACK: September 20

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Vernon Dursley groaned as the alarm clock buzzed its insistance into his ear. Glancing at the glowing face of it, he resigned himself to getting up - he had hit the snooze alarm twice already. Beside him there was a warm impression - Petunia was awake, but had not been for long. Sighing, he clambered out of bed, shucked his nightclothes, and entered the shower.

By the time he came downstairs, clean and dressed and with a freshly trimmed mustache, Petunia had already finished frying eggs and bacon for him, and was working on a pair of each for herself. "Goodmorning, Pet," he said, leaning over to tenderly kiss her cheek.

She smiled at him. "And good morning, love," she said.

As he ate in thoughtful silence, he became aware of the sounds around him. He heard the sizzling of the bacon in the frying pan, and the gente patter of a light autumn rain on the roof above. The television in the living room ras turned off, because there was nothing he could learn from it in the mornings he didn''t already know, or couldn't find out from his co-workers. As his thoughts drifted to his co-workers, he sighed, and set his fork back down on his plate.

"Are you alright, love?" asked Petunia Dursley. "You normally have a healthy appetite, it's not like you to be so sparing in the mornings." she set down her own plate across him from the table.

"It's... It's that I just can't keep doing this, Pet." He rubbed his slightly pudgy face in both hands. Vernon Dursely was a heavy man, though only the least charitable would ever use the term fat. "I just can NOT keep pretending to be someone I am not anymore."

Petunia's eyes widened, and she looked at her husband. In a way, she was glad Dudley was away at Smeltings, and Harry at Hogwarts. She had a feeling what was about to be announced would have caused considerable chaos and fear.

Vernon idly picked at his eggs with a fork. "I've been keeping up this masquerade for nearly fifteen years. Fifteen years, Pet!"

Petunia nodded, worry staining her every feature. "I... I know. Fifteen years."

Dropping his fork once more, Vernon stood up. "No more. I will no longer hide the man I really am. I swear this."

As his wife gasped, Vernon added, "I am putting in my two week's notice at Grunning's. I will not allow my dignity and my pride to be dragged any lower than they have to date."

It was as she feared. "But then what will we do? How will we take care of Dudley and Harry?"

He started pacing. "I'll find a different job. And not the first one that comes along, either. I'll look in to every company I apply at, making certain they are the type of company my conscience can accept."

Petunia stepped around the table. "I am so proud of you, love. But... but what will we do for the time you're out of work?"

A knock on the door interrupted their discussion. It was Remus Lupin, carrying a bag of coffee grounds. "Good morning," he said lightly. "Ah, excellent, Vernon, just the man I was hoping to see."

A broad smile spread across the portly man's features on seeing the werewolf. "Come on in, Remus. I was just informing Pet of a decision I have come to!"

"Thank you, Vernon. And I've brought more of that coffee you like so much."

"Good, heavens know I could use a cup this morning."

A few minutes later, and Remus was appraised of Vernon's decision. "Well... you do know Harry has inherited quite a large sum of money from his parents - James was extremely wealthy, you know. And if I know him, even the slightest hint of this and he'll gladly give you every sickle and knut," he said with an odd inflection.

"Never," said Vernon. "About the only thing I and my father agreed on in his last days was that we do not like freeloaders. And I will not so impose on our boy that way, I respect him too much for it."

Petunia smiled, and a tear came to her eye, a tear of joy at hearing her husband say something like that about her nephew. "I'm certain something will come up, dear."

Remus looked thoughtful. "Vernon, about how long would you say your savings would last you?" he asked.

"Perhaps a year, and another half if we live frugally. Why?"

His only answer was a wolfish grin, that made the muggle feel like he just had "Volunteer" and "Sucker" stamped across his forehead.

zzzzzzz

Some weeks later, Vernon busied himself by working on completely re-organizing the living room. For the third time. He knew Remus had promised him a guaranteed job with excellent salary, but wouldn''t say what it was or why he was able to offer it.

POP!

Somewhat surprised, he looked around. It sounded like apparation, but the wards on the house meant nobody could apparate in. That, and the noise was too high-pitched to be a wizard teleporting in like they did.

There, to his surprise, was a creature the likes of which he had never seen. It was vaguely humanlike, but with huge tennis-ball sized eyes and batlike ears. It was wearing a bizarre combination of apparantly cast-off clothing, including a shrunken Weasley sweater (he'd recognize the knit of it anywhere), and a knitted tea-cozy. "By jove, what exactly are you?" he wondered aloud.

"Begging sir's pardon, but I is Dobby," said the creature, "house elf to Master Harry Potter. Are you Master Potter's father?" he asked, wringing his hands slightly.

"Not quite," admitted Vernon. "I'm his uncle, however, and I love the boy as if he were my own. And pardon me, where are my manners. I am Vernon Dursley." He bent over, and offered his hand to the little thing.

Dobby smiled ear to ear. "Dobby got the right house, yay! The first two was empty, so Dobby tried the third!" He then saw the extended hand. "Err, Master Vernon Doozey, sir, what is the hand for?"

Blinking somewhat owlishly himself, Vernon replied, "Err, it's me extending a hand in welcome. Now, you will have to forgive me, because I and My wife, Harry's aunt, are muggles. What exactly is a house elf?"

Tears welled up in Dobby's eyes. "Oh, the great and wise Master Harry Potter has relatives as wise and noble as he! Oh joy!" Gingerly, he took the beefy man's hand, eyes open in wonderment as his hand was given a firm shake, and then released.

"Err, right. Now, about what house elves are?" he prodded.

For fifteen minutes, Dobby proceeded to explain the duties and functions of a house elf, including the rule about clothes. Vernon was slightly disturbed that Harry would willingly accept the slavery of another living being, but decided that would be best taken up with Harry, and not the poor individual in front of him. In fact, if Remus would assist him, he felt one of those "howlers" were in order.

About this time, Petunia returned from her trip to the store. She froze when she entered the living room, eyes on Dobby. "Vernon... what... who is that?" she asked, walking up beside and slightly behind him.

"I is your nephew's house elf, Dobby!" he declared. "The great and noble Master Harry Potter freed me from service to a bad wizard, and I begged him to accept my service, Missus Doozey!" The house elf looked overjoyed at the thought of serving Harry and his family. He then took a deep breath, and repeated nearly word for word what he had told Vernon about the rules and duties of house elves.

Petunia huffed. "I can NOT beleive it. How could Harry accept something o cruel as slavery?" she asked.

"He was not, Missus Doozey. He insisted I accept three galleons a day and Sundays off. He originally offered five galleons a day and Saturdays and Sundays off, but Dobby was able to talk him down, he was!" said the house elf proudly.

Vernon was thoughtful. "So, effectively, you're a magical equivalent to a butler, maid, and cook, all rolled into one?"

Dobby nodded. "But Dobby isn't quite as good at cooking as some of Dobby's former co-workers at Hogwarts, I isn't." He admitted this as if it was a complete and utter crime that he should have such a personal failing.

Petunia had by this time decided he was adorable. "That's quite alright, she said, sweeping him into a hug. "Now, you can't accept clothes or your contract is up, correct?" she asked.

"This is true, Missus Doozey. And Dobby would ask he not be given any - Dobby likes to be Master Harry Potter's house elf!" he said proudly, not resisting the hug.

She eyed him with a twinkle Vernon had last seen in Albus Dumbledore's eyes. "We can't give you any clothing, eh? Well, what about... a uniform?"

The smile in Petunia Dursley's eyes made Vernon remember all over again why he had fallen in love with her. He would never tell her he had REALLY fallen in love AFTER their wedding, of course. Just the fact he loved her was enough.

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Return to Present

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It was the morning of the Second task, and Harry found himself waking to an awful smell. "Dobby has brought your Gillyweed, Harry Potter, sir!" announced a chirping, squeaky voice.

It took nearly a full minute for Harry to wake up enough to realize why the foul-smelling, disgusting looking pile of greens was so important. "The Second Task!" he declared. He hurriedly threw on his robes, and rushed out to prepare.

On his way out, he passed Hermione and Ron. "Hi, guys, going to cheer me on?" he asked, laughing nervously.

Ron seemed a bit distracted. "Yeah, sure. What'd they take, d'you think? And where's Ginny?"

"I dunno," admitted Harry. "You know, Hermione?"

She pursed her lips. "Well, her roommeates did say Professor McGonegall came to see her last night. And she wasn't there when they woke up this morning."

As they headed down to the lake, Harry noticed two other students were missing - Cedric Diggory's girlfriend Cho Chang of Ravenclaw, and Parvaiti Patil, from his own grade and house, were also missing. Slowly, realizing that Parvaiti was very close to Viktor Krum, he came to a horrible realization. "Merlin! She's what I would miss most!"

This stopped Ron in his tracks. "G-Ginny? She's... with the merfolk, underwater?"

All Harry could do was nod.

Ten minutes later, Harry, Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric were all standing on the shore of the lake. Of them all, only Harry had apparantly guessed at the true nature of what awaited below. As soon as they were given the word, he choked down the gillyweed, and dove in to the frigid water.

The water was ice cold, and he panicked for a moment. But then he felt an odd sensation, and found the water warming. He reached up and touched his neck, and found gill slits there. Looking at his hands and feet, he saw they were just as Neville had described - webbed, like a frog's feet or a merman's hands. Inhaling the water, and feeling an odd sensation as the water rushed over his newfound gills, he dove for the dark heart of the lake.

He found he was swimming very swiftly, and soon found himself near the bottom. He passed the giant squid, who seemed to wave at him with one titanic tentacle, and began following the lake bottom until he found what he was looking for.

The merfolk were more civilizd than he had thought, he realized as he neared their underwater city. Though they could not make fire, and so metalworking was unknown to them, they still had managed to carve stone dwellings with more than a hint of classical architecture. As he drew closer, he realized that the stone was not stone at all, but some form of freshwater coral, shaped and guided by whatever shamans the merfolk had. Some of them noticed him, and he saw a variety of reactions. Some, mostly the smaller ones he assumed were children, laughed and pointed at what Harry assumed was 'the funny man with two tails'. Some of the older ones clutched tridents and harpoons but nodded in his direction. And more than one actually applauded. He thought he recognized one of them from a few weeks earlier, when he opened the egg in the lake.

As he passed throuh the merfolk village, he realized there was a small crowd around what could only be their village square. Veering in that direction, he gasped. The three missing Hogwarts students, and a lovely little girl of perhaps eight years old, were hanging, as it were, from long strands of kelp-like rope. They had a silvery sheen, which Harry assumed was a spell of some sort to keep them in suspended animation. And at the sight of Ginny, his heart caught in his throat.

She was an elemental goddess in his eyes - her crimson hair flowing free anout her head like a fire that all the water in the lake could not quench. Her pale, freckled skin seemed like white satin thanks to the spell's shielding, and her robes floated about her in the current as if blowing in an unseen wind. Truth be told, all of the young women were quite beautiful, and Parvaiti and Cho had an additional exotic air, but none could stand beside the girl who owned his heart. Only the youngest, a mere child, could come close, and that more from the pure and radiant innocence she possessed.

Without thinking, he rushed to Ginny, and began to untie her feet. Once that was done, she simply floated there, with what Harry remembered from a long ago science class as 'neutral bouyancy'. Glancing at Cho and Parvaiti, both of whom he considered well-liked acquaintences, though not exactly friends, and the innocent little girl on the far end, he made a decision. It was one that might cost him the tournament, but he didn't care.

Harry gathered Ginny into his arms, and waited. As he did so, the mermaid he had rcognized earlier swam up to him. "Why do you hesitate, landwalker? There is time, yes, but time is still your enemy here." Her voice was in direct contrast to her appearance. While the mermaid was actually quite ugly, not the beautiful creature of legend, her voice was like the song of the deep, lilting and entrancing.

"I... I have to make sure," he said. He wasn't expecting to be able to speak properly underwater, but was surprised at the results. His voice, normally the cracking tenor of adolescence, sounded as a deep, rich baritone underwater.

The mermaid looked at him, then looked around. "You... you may only take one. Only what YOU would miss most, not the others. They must have their chance. But..."

"But what?"

"I... I cannot say." She then swam off, leaving behind a slightly confused young wizard and his sleeping love.

Moments later, a shadow fell over the village. It was small, though larger than Harry was, and the merfolk once again raised their eyes. It was Cedric, a diaphanous membrane enclosing his head, as he swam for all he was worth for the merfolk village. Harry breathed a small sigh of releif, and winked at the unknowing Cho.

Cedric waved at Harry, and began untying Cho's ankle from the kelp. As he did so, he looked up, and mouthed, 'Why?'

Knowing Cedric likely wouldn't hear him through the bubble-head charm, pointed at himself, then Prvaiti and Cho. 'Friend,' he mouthed back.

A warm smile spread across the face of the older boy, who nodded. Harry then glanced at the sleeping child on the far end, and mouthed questioningly, 'Fleur?'

Cedric shook his head. 'Out' whas all he replied. Unfortunately, at that moment what could be a terrible accident occurred.

A third humanoid figure, bearing the head and torso of a shark, rocketed through the water towasrds the kelp holding Parvaiti in place. Harry realized this must be Viktor Krum, but one of the mermen apparantly did not. Seeking to protect his charge from what he thought was a marauding monster of some kind, the merman hurled his harpoon at the strange figure.

Cedric had noticed this as well as Harry, and was considerably closer. Even as the unknowing Viktor chomped through the kelp and raced upwards with Parvaiti, Cedric abandoned his efforts to free Cho and leapt in the way of the harpoon. "NOOO!" shouted Harry, but it was too late.

The older Hufflepuff boy was very lucky. The harpoon did not strike flesh, but ricocheted off his bubble-head charm. It sliced a long gash through it, and water began spraying in. In less than a minute, Harry reckoned, there would be no more air. And it would take him far more than a minute to reach the surface.

There was only one option available to Harry. Knowing Cedric could not reach the surface without aid, and that Fleur could not come for the little girl, he tossed a cutting hex at the girl's kelp rope, nearly at its base. Racing as fast as he could, he tied the kelp around Cedric, mouthing 'Hold on' and pointing at Cho. Then with the superhuman swimming speed the gillyweed had given him, he raced upwards, holding on to Ginny and the little girl, dragging Cedric and Cho behind him.

No sooner had Harry, Ginny and the little girl broke the surface when the two suddenly awoke, taking deep breaths. "Help me!" Harry cried to Ginny, and began pulling on the kelp rope for all he was worth, even as they swam to shore.

It was an agonizing few moments later when Cedric and Cho broke the surface. His fellow Triwizard Champion was very pale, and still, while his Ravenclaw girlfriend was on the verge of panic. Harry left Ginny to help the little girl ashore, and rushed to their side. The power of the gillyweed was fading, now that he was breathing air, but he would do what he could to make sure Cedric made it to shore.

The bubblehead charm around Cedric rapidly drained of water once they were above the surface, but it didn't seem to help. Harry glanced at Cho as they swam, and she gasped to him, "We'll make it! We have to!"

It was only thirty seconds later when they reached the shore, but to Harry it felt like an eternity. The instant they touched the dry ground, Cho tossed herself onto Cedric, and, using his own want, dispelled the bubbleheaded charm. If Harry had not been raised as a muggle, he would have wondered why she then proceeded to kiss him, but as it was he knew. She was giving him mouth-to-mouth, literally keeping him breathing until the mediwitches could arrive.

Distracted by the scene, and his worry for Cedric, Harry was taken by surprise when Fleur rushed over to him, the little girl and Ginny right beside her. "You saved 'er. You saved Gabrielle, my sister," said the French girl. "Even though she was not your 'ostage!" she said breathlessly. "And our fellow competitor, as well!" She then kissed Harry twice, once on each cheek, making him blush, and he then wondered why Ginny was turning slightly red.

A little voice interrupted this touching scene. "M'seur Potter?" said the little girl.

Harry turned, and saw Gabrielle was blushing. "Err, yes?"

"Do... do you have any sisters?" she continued. Apparantly, her English was ever so slightly better than her older sister's.

"Err... other than Hermione, no. And she's really my best friend, but she feels like a sister," he answered.

Gabrielle looked back and forth between Fleur, Ginny, and Harry, and blushed to the roots of her hair. "Could you... would... would you mind so terribly if I thought of you as a brother?" she asked.

Harry was stunned, and could only nod a little. Gabrielle squealed happily, and plopped herself down in his lap and snuggled up against him. "I have always wanted a bother," she said.

This caused Ginny to giggle a little, but she held it back. Fleur glanced at Harry, then Ginny, and grinned wickedly. "Let us leave zese two to zeir own devises, mam'seille. We have much to discuss," she said to the redhead.

Madam Pomfrey chose this moment to intervene. "Ahem, while I was distracted for a moment with Mr Diggory, I still have to give the four of you the once over. If you would be so kind..." As she trailed off, her assistants rushed over, and the Champions and their Hostages found themselves wrapped in warm towells, and fed doses of Pepper-Up Potion.

Cedric, thanks to Harry and Cho, had regained consciousness while Harry was dealing with the French girls. He and Cho found their way over to Harry and the others while they waited on word from the judges. Seeing the knot of individuals, Viktor Krum likewise led Parvaiti over to where they stood waiting.

Krum first turned to Cedric. "I haff heard vat you did. It is a debt of honor I owe you, good sir," he said. Straightening himself to his full height, he bowed sharply at the waist, and stayed there.

This left Cedric at somewhat of a loss, but he recovered quickly. "Viktor... please. If... if we have to discuss this, can we do it later. I'm still a little, uh, overwhelmed right now."

The Bulgarian's face creased in a smile. "Of course, Mr Diggory."

"Cedric, please, just Cedric," insisted the Hufflepuff seeker.

"Cedric, perhaps, but I vould suspect not 'just' Cedric," rumbled Krum. He then turned to Harry, and Parvaiti smiled broadly at him as well. "And you should be proud as well, Mr Potter. Madame Pomfrey has told me vat you did."

Once again, Harry began to blush. Ginny hugged him on one side, and Gabrielle on the other. Fleur merely put one hand on his shoulder and smiled.

Ludo Bagman's voice spared him further embarrassment as it boomed out, magically amplified. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision."

All eyes turned towards the Champions and their hostages. "We have just finished conferring with the cheiftain of the merfolk in the lake, and learning exactly what happened on the lake floor. We have decided to award points out of fifty to the Champions as follows."

"Fleur DelaCour showed excellent grasp of the bubblehead charm, but was attacked by grindylows and dragged to the disqualification area. For her efforts, she has received twenty-five points."

"I deserve zero," she called out, interrupting the announcements. Whispers flew, as she straightened her back. "I failed the task, and it is only right zat I not receive ze points."

Bagman looked startled, and conferred with Karkaroff, Madame maxine, and Dumbledore. Eventually all three nodded. "I am sorry, Ms DelaCour, but our decision stands. You at least attempted the task, and with a method most likely to work.

"Next we come to Viktor Krum, the first to return with his hostage. He used an incomplete form of transfiguration which was highly effective. We award him forty points." Bagman paused as applause swept overthe crowd, especially from the Durmstrang students.

Viktor stepped forward, Parvaiti on his arm. He then bowed sharply, and pointedly, towards his headmaster, who returned it.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the bubblehead charm, failed to return his hostage under his own power. However, upon conferring with the cheiftain, we have discovered this is because his charm was ruptured by a harpoon hurled at Mr Krum, which he moved to intercept. For his courage and selflessness, we award him thirty-five points." Applause once more swept across the crowd, this time most heavily from the Hufflepuff section.

Harry began to sweat slightly. He told himself it was just from the Pepper-Up potion, despite the fact that it didn't make one sweat, when Mr Bagman continued. "Finally, we have Mr. Potter. Though he returned to the lake shore nearly five full minutes after Mr Krum and Ms Patil, he did so having recovered no less than three of the hostages and one of his fellow Champions. In the proccess, he very possibly even saved Mr Diggory's life."

Another hand rested itself on Harry's shoulders, and he turned to look into the smiling face of Cedric. "We have also heard that he was the first to reach the hostages, but refused to return with his own until he was certain the others were safe," added Dumbledore.

Bagman nodded. "Thank you, Headmaster. For this reason, Harry Potter has been awaded forty-five points, and is now in the lead of the Tri-Wizard Tournament!"

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If it had happened to anyone but Harry, Hermione would have been able to be completely rational about the next few days. The four Triwizard Champions had grown quite close in their shared adversity, which meant that they and their respective significant others would spend more and more of their time together. She also knew that Harry had been hinting that she should take Ron somewhere private and, as he put it, 'snog the daylights out of him', but the fact that the Gryffindor Four didn't seem to spend as much time together anymore still hurt.

Ron, also, was feeling more than a bit left out. With two months left until the Third Task, whatever that would be, and only four months left in school, he was hoping to spend some time with his friends as just kids, with no Tournament worries or anything else over their heads. Instead, Harry and Ginny seemed almost to abandon him.

What they didn't know, was that Harry was taking every advantage he could with his newfound relationships with the other Champions. To Ginny's relief, Fleur practically adopted Harry as a little brother, which pleased Gabrielle to no end. Krum and Diggory likewise seemed to take a liking to the younger boy, and often teased him about his burgeoning relationship to Ginny. But Harry spent his time feeling them out, to make sure they would be the kind of friends he would need in the future - allies against Voldemort, should he ever return.

It was mid-March, on a blustery Saturday afternoon, when Ron heard his name being called from the hallway. "Hey, Ron, come here a sec." He turned, and saw the Champions, as well as Ginny, Cho, Parvaiti, Gabrielle, and to his slight surprise, Hermione.

It was Harry who had called him over. "We need to talk, all of us together," he said. "It's important."

"O' course, mate," said Ron, breaking into a huge grin. He walked up to Hermione, and put his arm around her. "Lead on, Harry."

The ten of them found their way to an empty classroom. Hermione and Krum cast spells to lock the door, and seal the room from prying eyes and ears, then nodded to harry. "You're probably wondering why I asked you all here," began Harry with a smile.

"And just how long have you been waiting to say that one," asked Hermione, as the others in the room, all purebloods, looked puzzled.

"Since forever," joked Harry. "Seriously, it's because of something that happened... well, it happened thirteen years ago."

Most of the room fel silent, realization rapidly dawning. Gabrielle looked puzzled, but Fleur whispered something in her ear in rapid-fire French, and her eyes widened. The little girl's face then became resolute, and she turned to Harry. She nodded, and Harry grinned in response.

Ginny spoke up. "It's not just what you're thinking about. Harry and I have been talking about this for a couple months now, ever since the night of the ball. You see, Voldemort's Death Eaters weren't the only secret society around during that time."

Harry took over. "It seems that Dumbledore had a group of his own. He called it the order of the Phoenix, probably because of Fawkes. They were dedicated to stopping Voldemort, and keeping the Wizarding World safe."

Fleur blinked. "Order of ze Phoenix? I have heard my mum speak of zis to my father, when she thought I was not listening," she said.

"Then they were probably members," said Harry. "If they were, you should be proud."

Cedric scratched his head. "If it was so secret, how do you know about it?" he asked.

The messy-haired wizard grinned. "Let's just say that my Uncle Padfoot was talking to my Uncle Moony just a little bit louder than he really needed to a few months ago. Now, there's something you all should know."

The group leaned forward in their seats, eager to hear what revelation would be next. "Voldemort isn't completely gone," said Harry. "According to Dumbledore, he's somehow anchored himself here. Grampa Albus called him a Lick or something."

"A liche?" asked Hermione, startled, and Harry nodded. "This... this isn't good," she said.

Grim looks were traded, and Fleur stood up. "Gabrielle, you must be tired. We shall return toze dorms," she said.

"No!" declared Gabrielle. "I may be young, but I deserve to know what you will do, as well."

Parvaiti stepped up, and put a hand on Fleur's shoulder, and exchanged glances and nods. She then knelt in front of the little girl. "You do know that what we will be talking about will be scary, right? It could give you nightmares."

"I don't care!" she pouted, stamping her foot. "My sister and brother will be here, so I should be too!"

Ron was confused for a moment, then remembered the French girls had 'adopted' Harry, so to speak. He thought about what it was like being the youngest, and spoke up. "She seems plenty brave to me," he said. "If she's absolutely certain she can handle it, then I think it's her decision."

Eventually, Fleur relented. Krum had been thinking this entire time. He looked around the room, and spoke. "How many of you know vat a horcrux is?" he asked. Nobody spoke, and the others just stared at him. "It... it is a vile magic. And is what creates a liche," he said.

"What is it?" asked Cho. "And how does it work?"

Krum shuddered. "Dark, it is. Darker than the Unforgiveables. The evil one who uses this thing, he murders. He tears his own soul apart, and places part into a thing. That thing then houses part of his soul, and if he dies, it lets him return."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "The... the diary!" she said. At their blank looks, she filled the newcomers in on the events of the Chamber of Secrets, exxagerating slightly on Harry's behalf to make him seem more heroic. He blushed, and tried to correct her, but she silenced him with a finger to the lips.

Cho nodded. "It fits. But it was his sixteen year old self! Was... was he Who Shall Not Be Named a murderer already at sixteen?"

"Voldemort," interrupted Harry, as most of them shuddered and looked around. "Fear of a name, you know. If we can't say his name, how can we fight him?"

Krum nodded. "Ve at Durmstrang are not permitted to call... Voldemort... anyt'ing but 'The Dark Lord'. Then again," he added with a smile, "we are not at Durmstrang now, are we?"

Parvaiti was chewing on her lip. "But Ginny... Harry destroyed the diary. Since he hasn't been fully reborn yet, doesn't that mean he should be already dead?"

Krum answered. "Not if he had more than one horcrux."

The thought was a sobering one. "Well... the point is, the Order of the Phoenix was disbanded when Voldemort fell," Harry began again, noticeably fingering his scar. "There needs to be something in place, something ready for when the time comes. There need to be people prepared to step up to the plate, and protect people from Voldemort and the Wizarding World."

"But why us?" asked Fleur. "As close as we have gotten, you still do not know us very well. Why are you bringing this matter to us? As students, our role in facing him will likely be so very small."

Harry took a deep breath. "I have a reason... but it is a very, very dark secret. So dark, that... that I must ask you all for an Unbreakable Oath that you will never tell another living soul this secret."

This took them all aback. Ginny immediately stuck out her wand. "When and where, Potter? I'll swear it!"

After getting over their shock, everyone in the room agreed to the oath. Harry sighed, and accepted them, and leaned back against the wall. "Before I was born... there was a prophesy made. Gramp... err, Headmaster Dumbledore told me about it after the incident with Profesor Quirrell."

Eyes widened. "I can see where this is going," muttered Hermione.

Harry nodded. "To simplify things, it said first that I have the power to 'vanquish' Voldemort, that he would mark me as an equal," he rubbed his scar again, "and I would have a power he doesn't know about. And that either I kill him, or nobody can. 'Neither can live while the other survives' was the actual line, I believe."

Silence filled the room. Eventually, Cedric cleared his throat. "So... it'll be just you and him, huh?"

Harry nodded. "Already has been, three times, actually."

"WHAT?" asked the foreign students.

"Let's see," started Ron. "Of course, as a baby... then with Professor Quirrell... and then the diary, right, Harry?"

"Exactly, Ron," agreed Harry.

"Okay, now I understand why we're going to be the ones to do this thing," admitted Fleur.

Parvaiti chewed on the ends of her hair. "If they were the Order of the Phoenix... who should we be?" she asked.

Ginny piped up. "Dumbledore's Army?"

"No," said Harry. "I wouldn't want to embarrass Grampa Albus like that."

"The Order of the Tourney?" asked Cedric.

"How about the Order of the Golden Egg?" asked Gabrielle. As the others turned to her, she continued. "It was the Second Task that brought us all together, and the Golden Egg was part of that task."

"I like it," said Fleur, possessively hugging Gabrielle to her.

"You know what," said Harry, "so do I."

Around the room, they all nodded. "It's settled, then," said hermione. "We're the order of the Golden Egg."

A charge seemed to pass around the room. On an impulse, Harry stuck his hand out. "To the Order," he said.

Ron stepped up. "To the Order," he declared.

Ginny stood on Harry's other side. "To the Order," she pronounced.

One by one, all ten of them stepped forward, and placed their hand on the growing stack of hands. As Krum, the last of them, placed his broom-calloused hand on the stack, a pulse seemed to radiate from them all. They looked around in wonder, and began to consider what that meant.

zzzzzz

Many floors away, Albus Dumbledore prepared to go to sleep, when he felt a ripple in the magic of Hogwarts. It was powerful, and it was centered somewhere near the halfway point between the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor dorms. "What was that?" he wondered aloud.

The portrait of Phineus Nigellus Black grinned slightly. "I would say that was the passing of the torch, Albus."

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End of Chapter

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A/N:  
Ah, the second task. The question now is, will the Third Task go as planned? Or will something screw it up? What is Uncle Vernon going to do for a living now, and how will the nascent Order of the Golden Egg factor into things? Ah, yes, we shall see, we shall see.

To be totally honest, I didn't even plan on the order of the Golden Egg being formed at all. But something about how the Champions bonded just snagged at my brain, and they started running away with me...

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Okay, fess up. How many people, while reading the beginning of this chapter, thought I was gonna turn Uncle Vernon back to his Canon ways:P I'm EBIL!

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Now to my Reviewers:

ginnyNharrysecretlove:  
Thank yu. I'm updating as soon as I can, had some projects due at work.

waytoobored:  
Like I said, only things Harry could directly affect could have been changed. And the ripples of change have begun to turn back on themselves, and the changes are spreading. The Order of the golden Egg, for example.

lilt101:  
Are the chapters too long? Too short? And thanks. :D

snow fox 2000:  
And here's the update for you. :D

Phyre's child13:  
Heh, yeah, if used right Dobby is hilarious. And since you're old enough to flirt, do it with STYYYLLE. That's what it's all about, after all. :D

Comet Moon:  
Thank you!

ibfritz:  
I'm updating as fast as I can, heheh

Shinigami:  
What they did in canon was criminal, yes, but the worst of it is so subtle as to be hard to legally prove.And as Dumbledore said in HBP, they did even worse damage to their own son.

ShadowObscurity:  
Why thank you! I think I shall. :D

C.Rose:  
I realize that... but for most of the events I skipped, they would have turned into nearly word-for-word duplicates of what happened in canon. Now that I'm reaching a point where the timeline is veering further and further away from canon, there will be fewer and fewer 'skipped events'.

immortalwizardpirateelf-fan:  
It looks like you were correct in your guesses on the hostages. And did you like our little scene above with Uncle Vernon?

GrimmyD:  
Thank you, and here it is!

beach bum:  
I hope you're referring to this story, and not a song, band, or anime. :P 


	17. Chapter 17: Goblet of Fire V

Disclaimer: JKR deserves every nice thing ever said about her. And her detracors can go kiss a pentapod.

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Goblet of Fire, Chapter V

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Fred glanced over at George, and nodded. He was leaning up against the doorway to Professor Snape's office, looking up and down the corridor furtively. His twin immediately dropped to the floor, and executed a perfect shoulder roll into the office, coming up with wand out and ready. Eyes taking in his surroundings with a glance, he stayed low to the ground, and side-stepped over to the Potions Master's desk.

Whatever the twins had planned, it was done quickly. Less than five minutes later, they were three floors away and headed rapidly for the Gryffindor Common Room.

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Even though the visiting schools had their own quarters, Viktor Krum and Fleur DelaCour could usually be found spending their evenings in the Gryffindor common room. The fact that Cho Chang of Ravenclaw and Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff were also often seen there was a bit of a shock to the older Gryffindors, but once the shock had worn off, they were welcomed in with open arms. "After all," once quipped Angelina Johnson, "Cedric won't be able to play us in Quidditch this year, and Cho isn't that much of a challenge to Harry, after all." This made Cho snort, but the laughter that followed was welcoming and well-intentioned.

The intermingling of houses began to affect more than those two, as well. Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors began to frequently visit classmates and old friends in other houses, and the mood of the school began to take on an even more comfortable athmosphere. The only sticking point was Slytherin.

While it was true that no one in the other houses was quite insane enough to invite Malfoy or his goons into their common rooms, some of the quieter and less, well, nasty Slytherins had been issued such invitations. These invitations were at first accepted, but never acted upon, and very shortly after rejected with forlorn looks. It was common knowledge why - /certain/ factions in Slytherin apparantly viewed this growing trend of inter-house unity with distaste and disgust.

On the evening before the Third Trial, the Gryffindor common room played host to perhaps the greatest show of this unity that Hogwarts had seen in a very long time. Nearly the entire house was down there, along with numerous representatives of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. The reason was a party being held for the four Champions, who had grown to be very good friends. Several members of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang groups were also present, delighting in both new friends and the festive athmosphere.

The Weasley Twins were in their element. Gladhanding with all the visitors, passing along various pranked candies and treats, and keeping the party lively with stunts, tricks, and banter, they seemed more alive than ever. Harry himself laughed as one twin, which one he wasn't sure, began levitating the other with the incant "/Twin/gardium Leviosa", and then had him re-enact Harry's encounter with the Horntail - using Ginny's own stuffed dragon ("Puffly", a relic of her younger days) as the Horntail.

Laughter was the order of the day, and nine students stayd at the heart of it all - Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Parvaiti, Cho, Cedric, Fleur, Viktor, and Harry. Cedric leaned over at one point when most of the crowd was distracted by the Twins demonstraton of Canary Cremes, and whispered, "Who did you invite to watch, tomorrow?"

Harry smiled. "Well, my family is going to be there, of course. And I managed to convince the Headmaster and Mr Bagman to let me invite the Weasleys, too. They're almost like a second family to me."

Cedric grinned. "I did the same. That is, they let me invite Cho's family. Rumor has it Viktor wanted to invite Parvaiti's family, but her father is an Unspeakable, and couldn't take off work, and her mother is out of town for her own job."

Overhearing the conversation, Viktor grinned, and popped his head between the two. "It seems as though ve are all vell and truly caught, eh?"

Nodding, Cedric grinned. "Now we just need to match Fleur up with some lucky guy, eh?"

This brought a chuckle out of the other two boys, as well as the one girl that was listening in. "I -DO- have six brothers... scratch that, FIVE brothers who are unattached, you realized," grinned Ginny.

Fleur noticed the knot of conversation, and stepped over. "Zo what are you four planning? Somet'ing zat I should know?"

All they could do was try not to let broad grins cover their faces. And in their distraction, nobody noticed a grey tabby cat with spectacle markings slip out of the portrait hole.

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'Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,' thought Serverus Snape. 'That old chestnut certainly applies to other forms of authority.'

It had been a long and trying evening. Knowing about the massive gathering occurring at practically the opposite end of Hogwarts, some of Slytherin's not-so-finest had decided to load up on dung bombs and attempt to crash the party. He had managed to disabuse them of that notion, but at the expense of one of the malodorous combustables accidentally slipping down the robes of one Gregory Goyle has he was being harangued... and, of course, being set off by the idiotic fool's brief burst of terrified accidental magic. That he had barely managed a spark meant little (he was barely more than a squib), but it was enough.

Of course, with one dung bomb detonating, the concept of fraternal explosions reared its ugly head. The initial explosion had panicked the students, who hurled the now sparking bombs away from them... and straight at Snape. He raised a shield in time to protect himself from bodily harm, but it was not a fully-enclosing, environmentally protected hermetic seal, just a simple 'Protego!'. The final tally left himself, and all of the conspiritors, saturated by the dung bomb smoke so thoroughly that scouring charms could not fully erase the stench from their robes.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Nott currently lay in an isolated section of the Hospital Wing, too physically ill from the smoke to do more than dry heave and moan pitifully. Goyle was atually injured by the one in his robes, but not severely - he had sufficient bulk to absorb the mild burn and concussive effect of the bomb. However, the dungbomb smoke had gotten in his wound, meaning that his own body would produce that horrible stench for at least the next three days.

As for Snape himself, his long experience with noxious substances had hardened him more than most to the odor. However, it was a horrible affront to his own personal dignity, and he was completely outraged. Every single one of the boys had detentions for the rest of the term once they left the Hospital Wing, and, most greivous of all, he was forced to take fifteen points each away fom his own house. Now, alone in the chambers adjoining his office, he sought the relaxation only a long, hot bath could grant.

The hot water did wonders for him, he felt. His muscles relaxed, and the tensions of the day just ebbed away. He felt his inner calm returning, which merely reinforced his Occlumency shields. Considering, he decided that such a long, relaxing soak should be a constant part of his Occlumency regime. The fact that it was effectively pampering himself had, of course, been pushed very carefully out of his mind.

Now clean, and rid of the stench, he changed into fresh robes, and tossed the ruined ones into the fireplace. The only thing remaining of his personal toilette was the grooming of his hair. Remembering where it was, he stepped into his office to reclaim his beloved tube of Brylcreem.

"A little dab'll do you..." 'If only there was a magical equivalent,' he mused, closing his eyes and working the old-fashioned muggle hair product into his hair to give it its usual sheen. As he pondered the possible formula of a potion to produce the same results, he never noticed what the product was actually doing to his hair. Satisfied, he muttered "Nox" without opening his eyes again, and left his chambers for the meeting with the headmaster and his guests.

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Minerva McGonegall sat in the office of Albus Dumbledore, along with Madame Maxine, Ludo Bagman, Igor Karkaroff, and Percy Weasley (representing the still missing Barty Crouch Sr). "It was simply amazing, I tell you," she said. "They were all so wonderfully happy, mingling with each other, trading stories, and laughing together. Never before in all my days have I seen the spirit of cooporation so thoroughly embraced," she finished, having described what she had witnessed - leaving out some of the more personal or ridiculous details of course. "And you, Mr Weasley, should be quite proud of your brothers and sister, as they seem to be at the heart of this development, along with Mr Potter and Miss Granger."

The thin, red-haired young man straightened in his seat, fighting to control a prideful smile. "I am, Professor. It's as though they fully understand the importance of International Cooporation."

Karkaroff scowled. "You say all four of the Champions and their... escorts... were consorting with each other?"

"I most certainly did," huffed the elderly witch. "It seems /they/ realize the true intention of this Tournament."

Before the bearded wizard could make a snide reply, Madame Maxine interrupted. "Outstanding, Minerva. In all the records of the Tr-Wizard Tournament, such camaraderie has never before been shown between all three, or in this case four, Champions."

Ludo Bagman was beside himself. "I -KNEW- this was a good idea! Smashing, simply smashing!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, it was." On first glance, the headmaster seemed to be joyful at the news, but those who knew him as well as Professor McGonegall still saw something behind his eyes that belied the jovial voice he spoke in. "But we still have one final shadow on the entire affair. One that I fear is cast by possibly a greater darkness."

Karkaroff shuddered, and nodded. "Yes... how the Potter boy's name found its way into the Goblet. I must... grudgingly... admit that I no longer suspect you, Albus, or the boy either. Which makes the puzzle even that much more disturbing."

A knock came from the office door. Dumbledore glanced briefly at his desk and smiled. "Come in, Serverus," he said.

"My apologies for being late," began the tall, slender Potions Master. "It seems a few of my mroe willful charges decided tonight would be the opportune moment for mischief."

Despite his attempts at discipline, a snicker slipped out from Ludo Bagman's lips, which was immediately silenced when he realized, in horror, what he had done. The remaining inhabitants of the ofice merely stared at Snape with only partially disguised humor. "And what was such mischief, Serverus?"

He lowered his lanky frame into a wingback chair, and sighed. "Dungbombs. The four of them are in the Hospital Wing as we speak. Three will remain overnight, while that great oaf Goyle will have a more extended stay."

"So, not... for example... dye bombs, or the like?" prodded Madame Maxine, fighting a smile.

"Oh, certainly not," said Snape. "Any Slytherin intelligent enough to produce an effective dye bomb is also intelligent enough to understand the ramifications of using such a devce while our guests are here." He then inclined his head to Karkaroff and Madame Maxine... when a strand of brilliant red hair fell into his field of vision.

Everyone froze, as Professor Snape slowly reached up, and gathered a lock of his long hair into his hands, and brought it in front of his face. Yes, most certainly red. "Headmaster... would you, perhaps, have a mirror I could utilize for a moment?" he asked, almost unnaturally calm.

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, muted slightly by their conversation prior to Snape's entrance, had returned full-force. "Most certainly, Serverus." He reached over, and handed a small mirror to the younger man.

His hair was red. Very red. Fire red. /WEASLEY/ red. McGonegall's voice managed to make itself heard. "Well, it appears, Serverus, that you are not the only Head of house whose charges decided it would be an... opportune moment." Bagman let out a few snickers at that, joined by of all people Karkaroff and Percy Weasley.

If someone had been standing outside the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's stairs at that moment, they would have been just able to make out an inarticulate scream of rage.

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"So are you prepared for today's events, my boy?"

The voice came from behind Harry as he slipped his outer robe over his clothes, from someone standing in the doorway. He froze for a moment, and let the robe settle on his shoulders of its own accord. He then spun around, and flashed a huge smile as he cried out, "Uncle Vernon! I was afraid you weren't going to be able to make it because of Grunnings!"

The man winced slightly, and shook his head. "It wasn't a problem, Harry. We even managed to convince Smeltings to let Dudley come, as well."

For a moment, Harry looked confused, then he smiled. "Ron, Hermione, or Ginny let you in, didn't they?"

Vernon nodded. "It was Ron, actually. And your Aunt and cousin are downstairs in your common room. Dudley seems to quite like the colors. Now, like I asked, are you ready, Harry?"

Harry straightened himself up to his full height, which still wasn't VERY much. "As ready as I'll ever be!" he proudly declared.

"Then let's get downstairs and get moving," huffed his uncle, ruffling the boy's already messy hair. "We wouldn't want to be late, now, would we?"

A small crowd of supporters awaited the boy Who lived down below. Besides Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and his family were Mr and Mrs Weasley, the twins, and Bill. In additon, his fellow Gryffindors Neville, Seamus,and Dean stood there, holding signs with his name and a stylized lightning bolt on them.

Petunia Dursley and Molly Weasley crowed in unison on seeing him, and both embraced him. "Oh, Harry," crooned Petunia, "I was SO proud of you when I heard what you did on the Second Task. You were so chivalrous and brave!"

Harry blushed, which brought a smirk to Ginny's face - and a light to the eyes of the twins. "Aww, Ickle Harrikins is so noble!" began Fred.

"So polite!" continued George.

"So honest!"

"So brave!"

"Especially brave, my good man, considering he's snogging our little sister," Fred added wickedly.

This, of course, brought six pairs of eyes to land directly on Harry. Molly, Arthur, and Bill wavered between glowering at him and a grudging consideration, Dudley was almost laughing, Uncle Vernon seemed embarrassed for his nephew, and Petunia actually began to cry. "Harry... Harry... you're growing up SO fast!" she sobbed.

Ginny decided to spare him a little from the rest of her family by actually embarrassing him a little more. "Get it right, Fred," she said. "He's not snogging me."

Molly's eyes snapped to her face. "He's not?"

"No, mum," she answered. "I'M snogging HIM!" she declared, and immediately proved it by grabbing him and completely and thoughorghly kissing him in front of the entire common room.

Dean, Neville, and Seamus began to hoot and cheer, but were immediately silenced by a glare from Bill. Arthur noticed Harry's reaction, however, and pointed it out to his wife. In fact, Harry had completely frozen, and didn't appear to have moved a single muscle since Fred's announcement. Even now, Ginny could have been kissing a mannequin for all the reaction he was showing. That soon changed, however, as his cheeks began to flame, and he slowly closed his eyes.

For a very long moment, or perhaps an eternity, Harry simply forgot anyone else was present. All he could think about was Ginny, her lips on his, and what he felt flowing from her, into him, and back to her. It was paradise, it was a thousand times better than chocolate, and it was entiely all-too brief.

Harry was actually quite lucky his instincts were still overridden by his pure heart, as his hands never strayed into a 'danger zone'. Shortly after the kiss began, the eyes of Molly, Arthur, and Bill softened, seeing the respect and caring the two teens had for each other. However, as it began to drag on, they became a bit nervous.

At last, the couple came up for air, staring into each others' eyes, leaning their heads together slightly so they touched at the forehead.It was almost fifteen seconds later when they realized someone was speaking to them.

"...kay, lovebirds, break it up, Ickle Harrikins has a Tournament to win!" crowed the voice of one of the twins.

This seemed to snap Harry out of a trance. Suddenly realize he was snogging Ginny right in front of her parents and brothers, he jumped back five feet. "Umm, right. I, um, have to go to the Great Hall for my briefing, so I guess you all had better, um, head on to wherever they have the stands." He then wondered why nobody was shading their eyes, because his cheeks were surely glowing with a blinging red glare from his heated blush.

Dudley and the Gryffindors laughed, with Vernon, Petunia, Molly and Arthur just shaking their heads as they escorted the younglings out through the portrait hole. But before he left, Bill turned back around to face Harry. "You'd better survive THIS trial," he said. "Because after it, we're gonna have a nice, long, talk."

The sound of the portrait Hole closing was like a death knell, as Harry stood alone in the common room, blanching and feeling more scared of an angry older brother than any stupid ol' Tournament.

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Thecrowd was positively huge at the arena when the four Champions showed up. harry gazed on all the faces around him, and felt himself begin to freee up. A hand on his shoulder gently shook him, and he looked over - directly into the wildly spinning eye of Mad-Eye Moody. "Get ahold of yourself, boy. You've got fans you don't want to disappoint," he said with a grin, nodding towards the top box.

Squinting, the only thing he could make out was a teeming mass of red, accompanied by a few other bobbing heads, and the glint off a balding pate. Even though he couldn''t make faces out, he knewin his heart it was the Weasleys and his family. Sirius and Remus hadn't been there when he had gone down to the common room, but he could swear he could barely make out a patch of greying hair next to... electric pink? 'Must be Tonks,' he thought.

"Champions, gather round," called out Dumbledore. The four students clustered up around him, smiling nervously at each other. "I have some kindly words of advice for you before we begin.

"First, I must say that you have all carried yourself with a grace and dignity almost unheard of in the history of the Tri-wizard Tournament. You have grown close, as have your schoolmates, and you have made your respective Headmasters proud." The old man's eyes glistened."But there is one thing you must remember."

Harry glanced at Cedric, then at Fleur and Krum. When he had first met them, the two foreign students had been cold and distant, especially to him, the 'childish interloper'. Now they were warm to him and each other, whatever walls they had torn down during the Second Task and immediately after.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore continued. "This is still a tournament. You must not let your friendship get in the way of victory, please. If you must - consider it a friendly contest between you four. Ignore the crowd, and the prize. But remember - 'An it harm none, do what thou wilt'."

Meanwhile, Ludo Bagman had already begun welcoming the crowd, and recapping the result of the previous two tasks. "And so it is," he declared, "that the youngest of the four Champions finds himself in the lead! So he shall have a head start over the others in this, the final task."

Nodding almost to himself, Harry nervously stepped up to an opening in the hedgerow. They had been briefed earlier that morning on the Task - it was a maze. The walls of this maze were hedges, reaching nearly thirty feet tall, and at the center was their prize, the Tri-Wizard Cup. They were told to expect anything, including creatures, enchanted areas, and possibly even living spell effects. They were also told they were given free reign to perform any spell they could against each other, save of course the Unforgiveables or any spell that would cause permanent damage. But when they heard that, the four exchanged glances, and came to a silent understanding - they would not do that.

"And it is now time for Potter to enter the maze!" and with that, Bagman blew his whistle. At this signal, Harry steeled himself, then sprinted forwards. Fifty yards in, Harry reached a fork, and decided to turn left. Behind him, he heard the whistle blow for Cedric, who was the next to enter the maze.

Just to distance himself a bit, Harry took a few more turns, alternating between left and right, then paused for a bit. Placing his wand on his palm, he whispered, "Point me!", the so-called 'Four Corners' spell. Looking at which way his wand pointed, he took off down another path.

As he ran, the whistle blew once more, then a little while later once more again. He began to grow a bit nervous, as he had been jogging for nearly fifteen minutes without any sort of obstacle. He was prepared for anything... so where was it?

Skidding around the next corner, Harry nearly collided with Cedric. He was pale and shaken, with one sleeve of his robe singed and burning. "It was one of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts!" he said, shuddering. "But it was enormous!"They paused briefly, long enough to shake hands, then sprinted down different paths.

The air began to grow chilly, and his determination found itself failing. Suspecting the reason why, Harry''s heart fell when he realized it was... "A dementor!" Conjuring up the memory of Ginny kissing him early that morning, pride and happiness filled him so greatly his Patronus nearly cast itself as he called out, "Expecto Patronum!"

It was when the dementor stumbled that he realized he'd been had. Calling off his Patronus, which seemed exceptionally solid, he called out, "Riddikulus!" With a loud crack, the boggart, for it really was the shapeshifting creature, vanished into nothingness.

A scream from around the corner caught his ears. "Fight it, Vkiktor!" Fleur, that was Fleur's voice!

Eyes wide, he dashed there, to find Viktor on the ground holding his head. "I... vill NOT!" growled the Bulgarian boy, his voice growing stronger as he choked out each word.

Fleur looked up and saw him. "It is ze imperius!" she declared. "He saw me, then droppedto 'is knees!"

Harry dropped to one knee beside Viktor. "Come on, you can fight it! Listen to the voice that makes sense, in the back of your mind, not the other one!" urged Harry.

Suddenly, to his immense releif, his fellow Champion dropped to the ground heavily. "It... it is done. I am myself," he wheezed out.

They helped him to his feet, and his head cleared rapidly. Viktor looked around, and noted they were on a four-way intersection. Considering, he said, "I vill go... THAT way!" he declared, pointing in a random direction. Meanwhile, Fleur and Harry had likewise picked random dirctions.

Before they raced off, Fleur kissed both boys on the forehead. "Good luck!" she called, and took off down her path.

Harry smiled, and wished the kiss had come from Ginny. he, too raced along his chosen path, abd used the Four Corners spell on occasion to reorient himself, and keep himself headed towards the center of the maze.

After ten more minutes, he had slowed down to a slow jog, a stitch in his side causing him more problems than he had expected. Even as he paused and leaned over, gasping, a melodious voice said, "Do you need a moment, or are you prepared to deal with me?"

Surprised, he looked up, into a mostly human-like female face. However, any other similarity to humanity ended in mid-chest, where it gradually became the body and legs of a winged lion. A sphinx! "May I... catch my... breath?" he asked, with the foreboding that the answer would likely be 'no'.

"But of course," replied the sphinx. "I am not without manners, you know - I am not my Thracian cousin. When you are ready, tell me. I shall then ask you a riddle. Should you answer correctly, I let you past. Incorrectly, and I attack. Do not answer, and you may withdraw unscathed."

"Th-thank you," he gasped out, and plopped onto the grass for a moment. When his side didn't hurt anymore, he scrambled upright, and bowed to her. "I'm... I'm ready, ma'am."

The sphinx smiled broadly. "So polite, even to one considered a Beast instead of a being by your Ministry. You must have a knack for making allies. But, still, I must ask you my riddle. " She closed her eyes for a moment, and considered. Opening them once more, she recited:

" I never was, am always to be,  
No one ever saw me, nor ever will,  
And yet I am the confidence of all To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball."

Harry was stunned, wishing Hermione was there; she had far more a head for riddles and puzzles than he did. Knowing he only had one shot before he was in for the fight of hislife, he carefully considered his answer. 'Am always to be... it's always going to existin the future... confidence...terrestrial..' Then it hit him.

"Tomorrow?" he asked hesitantly.

"Correct!" announced the Sphinx as she moved aside. "And good luck!"

He started to sprint off, then stopped, and half-bowed to the sphinx. Amused, she returned the gesture. Then he was off.

He burst out of a sharp right turn into what could only be a clearing, and stopped briefly. First, the Tri-Wizard Cup sat on a small pedastal in the middle of the clearing. Secondly, erupting out of the bushes directly across from him, was none other than Cedric Diggory.

Cedric was breathinghard, and had a few more scrapes than the last time they had run into each other in the maze. He smiled, and saluted Harry, and then crouched down, his eyes pointing towards the cup. "Race ya for it?" he challenged.

Harry was about to answer, but his eyes flew open wide. "Duck!" he yelled. "REDUCTO!" A thin beam of red light flew from his wand, directly over Cedric's head.

Cedric whipped around, just in time to see an acromantula the size of a small hut flying backwards because of Harry's blasting curse. Berating himself for his inattentivenss, he used Petrificus Totalis to immobilize the beast completely, for reasons of self preservation, then turned back around.

Harry let off a whoop of joy. "Race ya for it," he teased, as he was already sprinting across the clearing towards the cup. He saw Cedric shake his head ruefully, and laugh as he, too, began racing for his cup. Then Harry's hand came into contact with something cool and smooth, and the world dropped out from under him.

Cedric stood alone in the clearing. "Harry? Harry? HARRRYYY!"

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End of Chapter

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A/N:  
Oooh, yes, cliffhanger! And yes, a seemingly selfish act, has spared the life of Cedric Diggory... for now! But what exactly happened this time? How will hiis fellow members of the OotGE react? Or his family, for that matter?

And the reviewers for Chapter 16:

Phyre's Child13:  
The Order of the Golden Egg might get its name changed. Remember, it was an eight or nine year old girl who came up with it. But thanksfor your comments. And yes, I had fun writing that scene with Dobby, too. Good luck finding the right guy to flirt with!

jouve25:  
Ah, yes. But remember, there must first be a flame to light the torch before it can be passed.

immortalwizardpirateelf-fan: (whew, long nick:P )  
Well, yes, the identities of the hostages was relatively easy to predict... but also, consider how they must have looked underwater - the prettiest caucasian, Asian, and Indian girls at the school, hair and robes floating around them, with a faint silver sheen from the spell... hrms... idea forming. And as you can see, there will be new members of the OotGE soon...

ibfritz: Doing the best I can, mate!

mika:  
Well, the OotGE is definitely going to change things. It's the single biggest change from canon caused, as the ripples begin to flow back upon themselves. The people that sparked the events surrounding harry are now being directly affected by his change, which means that those events will change, as well.

Phoenix2500:  
Heheh, thanks. Like I said earlier, though, the name may change.

Shinigami:  
In HBP, Dumbledore mentions that Dudley has suffered worse damage than Harry. Mainly because while Harry may have ended up slightly shorter and smaller than he would have thanks to malnutrition, his heart is still strong and in the right place. In addition, his presence in the lives of most people has a positive effect, even if he DOESN'T save them directly from Voldemort. Just by being who he is, he often times saves them from themselves. look at Neville for an example. Dudley, on the other hand, was a spoiled bully who would likely never contribute very much positive to society. So, yes, worse damage to Dudley.Also, I think you mean Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - and I personally know of an individual who has suffered shocks in her life very nearly as great as Harry's (though without the whole magic and visions bit - just the loss of most of her family in a night of violence in front of her eyes that left her in a hospital bed for six months, a double rape, and being attacked again by one of her rapists when he was freed on a technicality - though he was stopped, he very nearly did the deed again). She had a bad couple of years, but is now one of the strongest people I know. So Harry's current mental state and his drive after what he experienced is not TOTALLY unheard of.

Silat'r:  
Thank you, and I'll keep writing!

Harry94Ginny:  
Hey, I understand not logging in. As for where it's going... let's just say some things will be easier for Harry, and some things harder.

caillion:  
Gay? o.o Okay, that's a reaction I hadn't planned on, heheheh. Yeah, I have a hard time writing Dobby's dialogue- I just can't "hear" his speech pattern in my head, like I can Dumbledore or Hagri's, for example. I have a similar difficulty with Krum and Fleur, so their english lessons will likely be relatively rapid. :D

Lady Melime Alasse:  
Why thank you. As for the ending... I'm not exactly certain where it came from. And the comment from Phineus was out of the blue from my point of view. :D

Kin Pandun:  
Okay, here's what I can reveal, in order of your questions:

- Harry isn't quite as tragic a figure here as he is in Canon, so while he IS famous, there's no real "hook" for her. She got bored when she realized that, and has pretty much stayed away, only coming to (grudgingly) cover the actual events themselves.  
- As for Umbridge... we'll cross that bh when we, err, never mind. You'll see.  
- They'll have their ways.  
- You'll see, heheh - In the future, I guess.  
- Should he, really? By the way, I should insist here that I do not like the "evil manipulative bastard" interpretation of Dumbledore. I prefer the "Loving, grandfatherly Albus" interpretation, where he keeps secrets from Harry because he wants to give him at least a few more months or years of childhood - AND who never truly learned the FULL extent of what the Dursley's did in canon.  
- The Portraits are a law unto themselves, you should know that, heheh.  
- Gabrielle is a Founder of the OotGE, of course we'll see more of her. :D - More POV's? Hrms. Okay, now that things are veering further from Canon, shouldn't be a problem.  
- Aaaah, Snape. Time will tell, time will tell.  
- Let's find out, shall we?

And yes they are. The first wave of ripples are flowing back to Harry. Soon, they'll flow back out from him again, and the cycle will continue. It's an exponential thing, you see...

pax-draconix: Thank you! I hope it's not diverting too fast, right now... but the changes are rapidly growing.

alwaysariyana:  
Thank you.And the theme of this episodes' Author's Notes seems to be "the changes are growing, aren't they?", heheh. And while Cedric is, in all actuality, a relatively minor character, you CERTAINLY can't say that about Sirius. 


	18. Chapter 18: Goblet of Fire VI

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is Jo's baby, not mine.

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Chapter 18: Goblet of Fire VI

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Landing in an undignified heap, Harry looked at his surroundings, terrified. It was nearly nightfall already, and he found himself in the one sort of place he did not wish to find himself at that time of day - a graveyard.

What's worse, it was a graveyard that seemed oddly familiar, somehow. He couldn't say how he recognized it, or why, but he simply did. He turned around all the way, noticing the Tri-Wizard Cup lying off to one side, and then nearly tripped as he returned to his original position.

At his feet was a tombstone reading "Tom Riddle." Remembering the diary and second year, Harry choked back a cry of alarm. He then hard the sounds of footsteps, and a figure began to emerge from the mists surrounding the graveyard.

As it drew closer, Harry's scar began to prickle in pain, more and more fiercely. The fugure was relatively short, but gaunt, and wearing a cloak with the hood pulled up to cover his face. In his arms was a baby... or was it just a bundle of rags? It stopped beside a headstone, only a couple of paces away. For a few moments, Harry and the short figure merely looked at each other.

Without warning, Harry's scar exploded into agony. His wand slipped from nerveless fingers, his knees buckled, and he began to retch as he curled up on the ground.

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Why,welcome to my new birthday... Harry Potter!"

zzzzzzz

In the clearing where the Tri-Wizard Cup had been, Serverus Snape cursed loudly. Truth be told, he had half expected Potter, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, to actually win this bloody tournament. But he had not counted on the cup being a portkey, He whirled the invisibility cloak off his shoulders, and rushed to the side of the other Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory.

Cedric looked on the verge of panic. "Harry! HAARRRY!" he looked around, and saw the Potions Master. "Professor, where could the portkey have taken him?"

"As much as it disturbs me under any circumstance to admit to weakness... I do not know." In this instance, it did more than disturb him - it frightened him. He knew that he was not the only former Death Eater in Hogwarts, for Karkaroff, himself, bore the Dark Mark as well. But none of the Headmasters were allowed access to the tri-Wizard Cup, for fear that it would be tampered with to serve as a beacon for one student or another as had happened in the distant past. Which... of course... meant that there was a third Death Eater present. One completely unknown to him.

Cedric had pulled himself together at this statement, and shouted "Relashio!", aiming his wand into the air and launching off red sparks. Moments later, Professor Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, followed by Karkaroff and Madame Maxine, burst into the clearing fom a diguised secret entrance.

"What's all the fuss about?" demanded Moody. Then he saw the empty table the cup had sat upon. "Where's the Cup?"

"It was a portkey, Professor!" said Cedric. "Harry got to it first - but the second he touched it, he was gone?"

"Non!" came a litling soprano voice, from the very entrance to the clearing Harry had used. It was Fleur, who had just reached there herself. "Little 'arry? Gone?" She looked near tears.

Dumbledore's eyes no longer twinkled. Instead they blazed with anger, and he radiated sheer power. "Is there no safe haven for the poor boy?" he demanded f himself through gritted teeth. He turned to Moody. "Give Sprout the signal to relax the maze. And ask Bill Weasley to come here, his cursebreaking skills might be able to help us locate Harry."

zzzzzzz

When Harry could think once more, he found himself tied to a tombstone. The figure in the cloak had just finished tying off the last knot, and his hood fell back. It was Wormtail.

"You!" gasped Harry.

The only reply was a sneer, and a crazed giggle. He drew a length of black cloth from a pocket, and shoved it roughly in Harry's mouth, then turned and hurried away. Harry found the ropes were tight indeed. He could not move, or even turn his head from what lay before him.

Harry's wand was lying some twenty feet away. Some way beyond it, glowing slightly in the starlight, was the Tri-Wizard Cup. The bundle of robes Wormtail had been carrying was close by, at the foot of the grave. Harry watched it, and with a sense of dread decided he did not want to know what was inside the old robes.

Wormtail soon returned, pushing a huge cauldron full of a liquid that Harry did not wish to identify. It stopped opposite him, near the bundle. He then pulled out a wand, and the cauldron rose into the air. A fire, burning without an obvious fuel source, soon appeared beneath it.

"Hurry," hissed that high pitched voice, and to Harry's dismay, it came from the... thing... in the bundle.

After a few moments of chanting and waving his wand, sparks began to erupt from the surface of the cauldron. "It is ready, Master,"

"Now," declared the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, and Harry tried to look away, but couldn't. Whatever it was was covered in slime, and the color of raw meat. It seemed like a tiny child, but no human child was so hideous, with a flat, snakelike face and burning red eyes.

As the animagi bent to lift the thing, Harry could see the look on his face in the moonlight. It was exultant, mixed with triumph and adoration at the thing he held. And without further warning, Wormtail lowered the thing into the cauldron's hissing, spitting surface.

By this point, Harry was frightened nearly beyond endurance. 'Let it drown,' he thought, 'or boil away to nothing...'

Wormtail was speaking in a clear voice. It was reedy but still somewhat strong, and carried an edge of bitterness and hate that was unmistakeable. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet crackled, and erupted. A fine, off-white powder rose from the hole, and at theurging of Wormtail's wand, flowed into the cauldron.

Wormtail's eyes were blazing now, as he drew a wickedly curving dagger from beneath his robes. "Flesh of the servant, willingly given," he called out, "You will revive your Master!"

Knowing what was about to happen, Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He heard a sickening wet noise, a bitten off grunt of pain, and the sound of something falling to the ground. Then there was a splash, as something else was added to the cauldron.

Daring to open his eyes, Harry saw only Wormtail's face, he was so close. His pupils were barely pinpricks, and his mouth opened wide in a leer. He held the hideous, revolting stump of what had been his right hand to show Harry like a gruesome trophy, his madness overcoming the pain. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken... you will ressurect your FOE!" On the last word, the wicked knife suddenly slashed across Harry's shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. Dropping the dagger, Wormtail fumbled in his cloak, and withdrew a glass vial in which he caught Harry's blood.

He staggered back to the cauldron, pain evidently beginning to filter through to his feverish brain, and poured Harry's blood into the now turbulent liquid that filled it. The surface of the potion exploded with sparks, blinding him briefly... hen went silent.

'It drowned,' Harry exulted for a moment. 'All that and it failed!' he thought as a cloud of billowing steam arose from the cauldron.

His hopes were dashed moments later, when he saw the dark outline of a man, tall and incredibly thin, arising out of the cloud.

"Robe me, my faithful servant," demanded the form, as Harry knew his nightmare had truly begun. Lord Voldemort had risen again.

zzzzzzz

By the time Viktor krum had nearly reached the center of the maze, the entire maze vanished, to reveal the Quidditch Pitch. Though obviously not large enough to hold the maze, it was equally obvious this had occured through liberal use of magic. He rushed to where his fellow Champions stood. Looking around, he asked, "Vere is Harry?"

They filled him in on the situation, and he was shocked. Parvaiti rushed to his side, even as Cho rushed to Cedric. Gabrielle was already crying in her sister's arms, terrified, and Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were gathered around the rest of the Weasley family. Ginny and Hermione were wailing, and Ron simply stood there stunned, unable to wrench his eyes from the table the Cup had been on only a short time ago.

Gabrielle felt a gentle calloused hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," said a gentle voice. "We have Dumbledore and your Headmaster working overtime to find him. If anyone can, they will."

The little girl turned, and saw a tall man kneeling in front of her. He had long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a dragon-tooth earring dangling from his left ear. "Are... are you sure?" she asked.

"Certain," he declared with a smile. For some reason, the smile comforted her, and she threw her arms around the new person's neck.

Fleur looked at the man gratefully. "I... I would like to zank you for helping calm my seester," she said, slightly flustered by the man's handsome smile.

"It's no problem," he said. "I have a younger sister, myself," he added, nodding his head to where Molly Weasly was comforting a panicked Ginny. "The names Bill. Bill Weasley."

Unbidden, a blush rose to the French girl's cheeks. "Fleur DelaCour."

By this time, Gabrielle appeared to have cried herself out. "She really likes Harry, eh?" asked Bill.

"We all do," forcefully declared Fleur. "But... Gabrielle more zan most. She haz... adopted... little 'arry as if he were a brozair."

"Like a brother, eh?" He looked the little girl in the eyes, and used one thumb to wipe away her tears. "Little one, listen to me. I work for Gringotts, as a cursebreaker. I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to find Harry. No matter what. After all," he added, and motioned back to his greiving family, "he's like a brother to me, too."

The little girl flung herself around his neck one more time, and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Thank you!" she declared, before running back to Fleur.

Meeting the older girl's eyes, Bill's face became grave. "We'll get him back, Fleur. You have my word on that."

It took the Beauxbatons' champion nearly a week before she finally understood why she felt more releived when he said it, than when Dumbledore had said the exact same thing.

zzzzzzz

Voldemort began examining his own body. Harry, horrified, could not tear his gaze away. The man was pale, paler than even Snape, with huge, blazing red eyes. Large hands, like white spiders, caressed evey feature as the Dark Lord became familiar with his body once more. Finally, the Dark Lord turned his eyes to Harry once more, laughing a cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail was on knis knees by this point, partly out of agony and partly out of subservience. "My... my Lord. Welcome back," he choked out.

A hand touched Wormtail's head in a nearly patrician manner. "Pettigrew, my faithful servant, I must ask you to suffer a little while longer. Extend your arm."

Unsure, Wormtail extended both arms, the stump of his maimed arm still bleeding fiercely. On the other arm, Harry saw something dark and terrifying - a shape like a tattoo, of a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth. The Dark Mark.

Voldemort somehow had gotten his wand from Pettigrew while Harry was looking away, and pressed the tip into the surface of Wormtail's skin, directly upon the Mark. "Let us see how many will be brave enough to return when they feel it," whispered the Dark Lord.

While he waited, red eyes swept across the trapped form of harry Potter. "You stand, boy, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A muggle and a fool. Almost as foolish as your mother. But, they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child... and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved to me in death!"

"But look!" he then declared. "My TRUE family returns!"

The air was full of the sound of whipping cloaks. In nearly every open space, wizards were Apparating in, the stacatto of their appearance like an obscene drum tattoo. One by one, they fell to their knees, and kissed the hem of his black robes, then fell back, encircling him and the grave of his father. Wormtail, bu this point, was curled up tightly, yet no sound louder than a faint whimper left his lips.

"Welcome, my Death Eaters," said Voldemort. "Thirteen years... thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as if it were yesterday. We are still united then, under the dark mark. OR ARE WE?"

The slit-like nostrils of the Dark Lord widened as he sniffed the air. "I smell guilt. It's stench sickens me. I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact... and with such prompt appearances! So I ask myself... why did this magnificent band of wizards never come to the aid of their Master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke except Wormtail. Biting back his pain, he managed to hiss out a single word. "Cowards!" he accused.

Voldemort continued. "And I answer myself, they must have beleived my power was broken. That I was gone. And they slipped back among the weak, pleading innocence and bewitchment. Did they not know? Did they not remember? I, who have gone further than any wizard along the road to immortality, I, defeated? By a CHILD?" he roared.

A shudder passed through the gathered dark wizards. "And I must now ask myself, do they truly remember where their loyalties lie? Do they now pay alleigiance to another power? Perhaps... say... Albus Dumbledore? Or even the Ministry itself"

Fear swept through the Death Eaters, as they knew that none of them would escape unscathed. One rushed to the feet of the Dark Lord. "Please, Master, forgive me?" he begged, kissing the hem of his robes over and over. "Forgive us all!"

"Crucio," was the only responce. The Death Eater writhed in agony, agony that abruptly halted. "Voldemort does not forgive," he hissed. "Nor does he forget. You each have thirteen years' worth of pain to make up for me. Alone of you all here, Wormtail is blameless."

Fighting both agony and also weak from blood loss, Pettigrew's eyes blazed with hope and pride as the Dark Lord singled him out. "You returned to me out of loyalty, did you not?" Voldemort whispered. "That, and out of revenge against Black. And against Harry Potter."

Wormtail nodded, his eyes rapidly growing unfocused.

"You sacrificed of your own flesh to restore me, did you not?"

Once again, the small man nodded.

"Then Avery! Nott! Help him rise! Lord Voldemort rewards faithful service!"

As two men in masks flanked Wormtail, and leped him to his unsteady feet, Voldemort waved his wand and hissed something Harry was almost certain was Parseltongue. A flow of silvery-white energy erupted from Voldemort's wand, and shapped itself into a gleaming, silvery hand.

Wormtail's eyes began to clear almost immediately. He flexed his new silver hand, attached seamlessly to his own haggard flesh. "My Lord... Master, it is beautiful," he declared, even as his eyes dimmed slightly, and he nearly fell once more.

"Remove him to the Manor," declared Voldemort, "and make certain he receives Blood Replenishment potions. He is to be my Left Hand."

The Dark Lord watched his servants half carry the emaciated form of Wormtail up the hill, and out of Harry's line of sight. He pointed to each Death Eater, and called them by name, extracting oaths of service, and promising a wealth of victims and slaves. Finally, he turned to a large empty spot in the circle. "And here we have six missing Death Eaters. Three dead inmy service. One, too cowardly to return, who will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever - he shall be killed, of course. And one who remains my most faithful servant, and has already re-entered my service."

As Harry pondered that news, he began to hope beyond hope that this was a nightmare. That it wasn't happening, and he would awake early in the morning, refreshed, with only a faint memory of all of ths, that would not last beyond breakfast.

zzzzzzz

The sun had set long before, and by now dozens of wizards from the Ministry had arrived. One had a device that was supposed to be able to track portkeys, but would take nearly half an hour to set up. Nearby, a family of redheads conferred with friend and foreigner alike, as they shared their hopes, and in some cases, their dreams.

"When he comes back," began Gabrielle, "can we just move here? You could get a job with Gringotts, Fleur."

Her older sister was too worried to even recognize or blush at the implications. "Of course, mon cherie."

Ginny, meanwhile, was staring directly at her parents. "He's in a graveyard," she whispered. "And V-V-Voldemort's there, too."

Arthur hushed his only daughter. "No, no, child. Voldemort is gone for good, he's never coming back. And Harry will be brought back to us, safe and sound."

Ginny shook her head. "He'll be back safe... but not sound. I've seen it, Dad. I've seen it."

He looked at his daughter sharply. "What do you mean, you've seen it?" he asked.

She shook her head, unable to speak, and simply buried her face in his chest and cried once more.

zzzzzzz

Voldemort had just finished telling the tale of his existance since that fateful night in 1981, and Harry had grown quite stiff, both from fight, and lack of circulation.

"Ah, yes. And here he is," continued Voldemort. "The boy you all beleived was my downfall." he laughed briefly, then suddenly stopped. "Crucio."

The pain was unimaginable. Harry thought he was being burned alive, flayed, and having every bone in his body shatter at once. He could not resist the agonized scream that erupted from his lips, and his body involuntarily struggled against its bonds.

After a moment, it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes, looking up into those hideous red eyes. Laughter crowed from the gathered DeathEaters, a nasty, hateful sound.

"You see? How foolish to think that... BOY... could be stronger than I!" He then scowled. "But let no one say Lord Voldemort is not... fair. MacNair! Untie the boy... and give him back his wand!"

The wad of material in his mouth had fallen out while he screamed during the Cruciatus. A swipe of a blade, and the ropes tying Harry to the headstone fell away, dumping him roughly on the grave of Tom Riddle Sr. His wand was thrust into his hand, and he was roughly dragged to his feet.

"You have been taught how to duel, have you not, Harry?" asked Voldemort. "First, we bow to each other," he sneered, tilting his torso ever so slightly towards the boy.

Finally regaining feeling in his aching limbs, Harry stood up straight. He then mimicked the Dark Lord's actions, even down to the sneer.

"Ah, he HAS been taught," laughed the snakelike fiend. "And so, the niceties have been observed. You face me now, straight-backed and proud, like a man,just the way your father died. I must admit I am impressed, boy."

"And now... we duel."

Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could even move, he was hit again with the Cruciatus. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming that he forgot his own name, forgot everything except the pain. But a brief flash of red behind his eyes distracted his mind from the pain, and brought a name to the surface. "G...ginny..." he groaned almost unintelligibly.

None of the Death Eaters gathered would dare admit it, but they all saw Voldemort flinch visibly at the half-spoken word. He immediately stopped the spell, and graciously allowed Potter to return to his feet. "A little break. A little pause. That hurt, didn't it?" asked Voldemort. "You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry didn't answer. He was going to die, just like his parents. But even the Dark Lord had said his father died stiff-backed and proud, so Harry swore to himself that he would never, ever beg. He would make his father proud, just as Voldemort had claimed.

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort, " and I expect an answer. IMPERIO!"

Harry's mind felt cleared of all thought. Bliss, replacing agony, was almost heaven. /just say no... just say no... just say no.../ counseled a voice in his head.

'I will not answer' said another voice, barely heard, in the back of his mind.

/Just answer no./

'I won't.' The voice grew stronger.

/Just answer no./

"I WON'T!" shouted Harry. The words echoed through the graveyard, and astonished whispers spread through the Death Eaters.

"Remarkable strength of character," sneered Voldemort, "to throw off the Imperius curse at such a young age." These word silenced the mutters in the graveyard, and everything fell still. "Perhaps another dose of pain, then," he declared.

As the spell sped from the wand, Harry seized his moment. He dove away from the spot he had been standing in, and leapt behind the gravestone. "Tut, tut, Potter,' jeered Voldemort. "Running away is certainly not a Gryffindor trait. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? I promise, if you step out, I shall make the rest of your worthless life painless."

Crouching behind the headstone, Harry knew his end had come. There was no one who could reach him, But by Merlin, he would not bow to death. He had once read a line in a book of poetry his Aunt Petunia loved, that read:

Do not go gentle into that good night Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

He also remembered the prophesy his eloved 'Grampa Albus' had told him about, and he realized it had been fulfilled three times already - once when he was a year old, and once in each of his first or second years. He had the power to do this, he simply needed to beleive in himself.

Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone, Harry suddenly stood upright. His wand was clenched tightly in his fist, and he threw himself around the headstone separating the combatants.

zzzzzzz

"We've got him!" shouted an Unspeakable, the one who had brought the Portkey tracer. "He's in Little Hangleton! The tracer can portkey us there!"

The shout came as a total surprise to all gathered around. Dumbledore, McGonegall, Snape, and Madame Maxine rushed over, closely followed by most of the rest of the adult wizards. The Tri-Wizard Champions and their friends, along with a huge mass of Weasley red hair, rushed forward as well, but found themselves blocked by a gensture from Dumbledore. Molly and Arthur rushed back to them, and scowled fiercely. "Wherever he is, it's dangerous. You lot simply can NOT come along."

Remus came up behind at a dead sprint, Tonks by one side and Sirius by the other. "Neither can you, Molly, Arthur," they declared, racing past.

"What? Why?" They turned to see the three Aurors touch the Portkey tracer, only to vanish as the countdown finished. Snape, alone, remained behind, a black scowl on his face and concern furrowing his brow.

Vernon and Petunia, leading a frightened Dudley, walked up to the gathered children and parents. "It's for the best, you know," said Vernon. "If anything had happened to you while you lot were trying to rescue him, he'd never forgive himself."

Cedric choked back a bitter retort, and tried a more tactful one."Sir... if anything happens to Harry because we're not there to help him... I'LL never forgive MYself."

Vernon nodded gravely, even as Petunia and Molly cried in each others' arms. "I completely understand, dearboy. I completely understand."

zzzzzzz

Dashing around the tombstone, Harry hurled the most effective spell he could think of. "EXPELLIARMUS!" he cried, but even as the words were leaving his mouth, Voldemort was calling out, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand, with the onrushing sound of death accompanying it, even as a jet of red light shot forth from Harry's. They met in mid-air... and suddenly Harry's wand began vibrating. A narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green but bright gold. He followed the beam with astonished eyes, and saw the beam connected to Voldemort's wand - which was also shuddering and shaking!

Suddenly, he felt his feet lift from the ground, and he and Voldemort rose into the air. The Death Eaters cried out in alarm, but Voldemort silenced them. "Do nothing!" he demanded.

As the golden beam splintered, and formed a bubble of shining golden energy around himself and Voldemort, Harry also saw a huge group of people suddenly appear. Beleiving them at first to be Death Eaters, his heart quailed, until he saw one figure striding forth like a colossus. Tall, and ancient though not stooped with age, his long hair and beard tucked into his belt, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore cast spell after spell into the now panicking ranks of Death Eaters, and Harry nearly cried with joy.

Dumbledore spared a moment of thought during the battle to glance at the unearthly contest raging above them. The sight was horrific - the greatest Dark Lord of the age, duelling with a mere schoolboy. And the Priori Incantatem effect had occurred!

"That's... that's him, isn't it?" demanded Bagman. "The... but he's..."

Dumbledore scowled. "Somehow, Ludo... he has returned." A stunner shot past Dumbledore, and he turned swiftly to view its source. "YOU!" roared the ancient wizard, as he raised his wand for his next spell.

Harry was both heartened and terrified. Whatever was happening, it confused him terribly. Then, he heard something. Faint at first, but growing stronger, it filled him with strength and renewed vigor. It was phoenix song.

Large beads of light began spewing forth from their wands, meeting at the center. Hedidn't know how he knew, but Harry realized that the bead would begin to move - and he could not let that bead touch his wand. He focused every particle of his being upon that bead, ears full of phoenix song and heart filled with the hope of rescue. Astonishingly, it began to move towards the Dark Lord.

After several agonizing moments, it finally touched the wand of his nemesis. Voldemort's wand began echoing screams of pain, then... then a smoky hand, the duplicate of the one he had made for Wormtail, issued forth. After that, two ghostly forms emerged - a woman in wizarding robes and a man in muggle clothing. "He was a real wizard, eh? Killed me he did. You fight him! Get him back for us, boy!" said the old man.

But nothing could have prepared Harry for what came next. A young woman, with long hair, the smokey form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand. Harry's eyes burned, and his arms shook from strain and greif, and he looked into her loving eyes.

"Your father is coming," she said. "He wants to see you. It will be all right, please hold on," she added gently.

Next came a tall man with glasses and untidy hair. He took his place beside his wife, and looked at his son with love. "When the connection is broken, we will linger for only a few moments, but we will give you time. Get to Dumbledore, quick as you can!" he said.

His mother looked at him. "We love you, Harry... do it now! Run, do it now!" she cried.

With all his might, he wrenched his wand away from the beam. The cage oflight suddenly disappeared, and harry dropped to the ground. The ghostly figures did not vanish, and gathered around Voldemort, shielding harry from their sight.

Dumbledore, having finished with the man who had shot at him, saw this. "To the tracer!" he cried. "Everyone to the tracer!"

Harry ran like he never had in hislife, but stumbled and fell halfway there. Two pair of strong arms helped him back to his feet, and Harry knew instantly it was his uncles Sirius and Remus now running beside him. With one last glance at the fading shades, Harry reached Dumbledore.

By this time, the rest of the Death Eaters had fled, and the adults had returned to the tracer. Some were badly hurt, but none looked to have been killed. Harry wondered why Dumbledore was dragging a bound Alastor moody, but all other thoughts fled as he heard the last words of the shades as they faded, and as the portkey activated.

"Albus, Moony and Padfoot - we miss you! And we are proud of you, Harry!"

zzzzzzz

A ragged cheer rose up as the rescue party returned with their prize. Harry was barely conscious, but paid what attention he could to his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was being transfered from hs godfather and 'fuzzyfather, into the strong arms of Vernon Dursley. He also saw his felow members of the Order of the Golden Egg, and the rest of the Weasley family, as well as Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley. Dudley had red-rimmed eyes, but harry knew he would never admit to have been crying.

Out of nowhere, a voice called out, "Now THAT was the scoop of the CENTURY!"

Uncle Vernon was lowering Harry to a stretcher, so he turned his head and saw the reporter who would come around during the events. "Huh?" he asked intelligently.

A soft, gentle hand inserted itself into his, and he unconsciously squeezed it slightly. The woman, meanwhile, continued. "It's Rita Skeeter, remember? And, dear boy, you have just so COMPLETELY made my career," she crowed.

Sirius frowned. "I don't remember seeing YOU in the battle," he snarled.

Rita winked at him knowingly. "We ALL have our little secrets, now, don't we?"

Harry glanced to the ownerof the hand inside his, and saw a crying Ginny. She couldn't take it anymore, and flung herself on top of him. "I WAS SO WORRIED!" she cried. "I... I... I..."

Harry used his free hand to pat her gently on the back. "It... it's okay. Nobody did or anything."

"But..." Her eyes filled with more tears. "I... I saw it happen, Harry. In a dream."

Harry grinned. "I know. Riddle mentioned it in... in the chamber. Said that you used to see snippets of me, but not quite me."

By this point, the rest of the Order of the Golden Egg had arrived, and harry was nearly inundated by the most beautiful women at Hogwarts. After Ginny finally released him, he was hugged in quick succession by Hermione, Parvaiti, Cho, and Fleur, then found tiny little Gabrielle wrapping herself around him as completely as Ginny had. "Do not scare me like zat again," she scolded. "I have just gotten you as a brother, and do not want to lose you yet."

Ron stepped up. "Mate... is... is it true?" he asked. His eyes held nothing but concern, and one hand dropped to Harry's shoulder.

Looking at the innocent face of gabrielle, then at the face of his own beloved Ginny, the only thing Harry could do was nod.

zzzzzzz

BOY WHO LIVED LIVES AGAIN!

VOLDEMORT RETURNS - THE BATTLE OF LITTLE HANGLETON!

These headlines and more dominated the papers for the remaining days until the end of the term. Harry had spent a week in the hospital Wing, recovering from the physical injuries and the trauma of his experiences that night, but by the end of it he was back on his feet and strong as ever.

Hefound out that the man he had thought had been Professor Moody was, in fact, Barty Crouch Jr. In a complex series of events, he had kidnapped the old Auror, and used Polyjuice potion to assume his role. It had been rouch who had put Harry's name in the Goblet, as well as enchant the Cup into a portkey.

The Order of the Golden Egg met one last time before the final feast, in a room the Twins had stumbled on earlier that year.

The first ten minutes of the meeting was silent. They simply hugged each other, and held each other close. Almost losing Harry to Voldemort had shaken them up, but it had also strengthened their resolve. Finally, Harry cleared his throat to get their attention.

"I'm sorry for what I have to say, Gabrielle," he began, "but I have to. It's... it's about our name."

The little part-veela girl pouted, but Harry continued. "The Order of the Golden Egg was fine forearlier. We were still pretty much just a group of kids, and there didn't look to be a certain... urgency in our chosen mission. I myself didn't think Voldemort was going to be back until long after I was an adult.

"Now... now it's different. He's back. It's real. And we can't afford to be children any longer. We've left the egg, and we can't go back."

A tear dripped down Parvaiti's face. "You''re not breaking us up, are you?" she asked, clutching tightly to Viktor Krum.

"Never," he swore vehemently. "We've been through too much to do that. We just need a new name. And I have one, based on what I saw a couple of weeks ago. I say we call ourselves... the Order of the Golden Light."

As they had months prior, the ten youngsters extended their hands. As they made contact, the shockwave that thus manifested was actually visible, a ripple in theair. Ten pairs of eyes opened wide in awe and wonder. Meanwhile, an old pair of twinkling blue eyes closed in pride and hope as it washed across him.

Silence reigned for just a moment. Then, Harry began speaking again. "Okay, next order of business. I think... I think we need to open up the order to other people. People we trust, who can help us."

"And not treat us as children," insisted gabrielle.

Fleur smiled, and ruffled her head. "And not treat us as children," she agreed.

"I was thinking from Gryffindor," began Harry, "we could ask Neville, the twins, Angelina, and Alicia. Sorry, Parvaiti, but Lavender may be a bit too flighty for this just yet. Dean and Seamus are the same way..."

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End of Chappter

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A/N:  
So Harry managed to get through the Third Task quite a bit more intact this time than in Canon. And the Order of the Golden Egg has become the Order of the Golden Light. What could possibly come of this?

Note: Since Cedric sent off the alert from the supposed site of the Egg, this let the Tournement organizers know SOMETHING had gone seriously wrong. Thus their panic when Canon had them all jovial until the moment Harry returned with Cedric's body.

As would seem obvious, by the way, Rita Skeeter used her animagus form to hitch a ride on someone in Harry' rescue party. And by seizing on this massive scoop, is pretty much going to completely put the kibosh on any plans for ridiculing Harry 9one of my LEAST favorite subplots in all the books!)

Now I know it hasn't been that long since I last updated, but I still got several reviews:

Phyre's Child13:  
Yes, I saved Cedric. I actually think those two would have been slightly MORE competative against each other if they were more friendly, resulting in the events of this chapter. As for Fleur, well, she sets HERSELF up with Bill shortly before we first see the Weasleys in Book Five, so it may not even take a nudge for that to start, as well.

immortalwizardpirateelf-fan:  
What with Rita's scoop, they can's really do so,now, can they? Also, Percy might find himself with a different career choice, as well...

athenakitty: As you see, he most certainly does, and they do. And it's Bill. The fact that my real name is Bill, and the girl who played Fleur was a hottie, has nothing to do with it. :D

mika: Yes, but sometimes it's the oldies but goodies that work so well. Also, part of the fun of a prank is in the delivery system - in this case, Snapes own supply of Brylcream. Why ELSE does his hair always seem so greasy:D As for "worthy of Jo"... right now, there is no higher praise i can imagine. Thank you!

Comet moon:  
Well, the final name turned outto be the Order of the Golden Light. Thanks for the idea, though!

ibfritz:  
You ask, you receive. Enjoy!

gaul1:  
G? Err, I'm sorry, but I'm not quite sure what that means... 


	19. Chapter 19: Dawn of War

A/N: From here on out, the timeline is so different from Canon that I will no longer be borrowing titles from the books. Instead, they will have new titles.

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The Dawn of War

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"Aaaaaah!"

Green eyes flew open wide, and a messy-haired young man bolted upright in bed. He was breathing so heavily that it was the only sound he could hear. It was dark, just after one AM, according to the blinking digital clock, and the arly summer breeze that wafted in through the open window was warm, carrying hints of the flower garden below.

As he caught his breath, the boy realized that whatever had woken him was rapidly fading from his memory. "A... a nightmare," he muttered. "Just a nightmare.

A gentle hoot called from the headboard behind him. He turned, and saw a beautiful snowy owl, its head cocked to one side with concern. He reached out and stroked her feathers affectionately. "I'm okay, Hedwig," he said. The owl responded with a gentle nip on his finger, then flew to the corner to settle on top of her cage.

A voice was heard out in the hall. "Harry, is everything alright?" Thedoor opened, and Vernon Dursley, his overweight uncle, poked his head in. "Ithought I heard you yelling in here."

"It... just another nightmare, Uncle Vernon. It was nothing," said the boy as he flopped back onto his pillow.

"That's the fourth one this week," grumbled Vernon. He strodeover to the bed, and sat down. "You're beginning to lose sleep, and that's not good for a growing boy your age."

Harry groaned. "I'm fourteen, Uncle Vernon, not eight, you know."

Vernon's eyes flickered to the clock. "Actually," he said, "you're wrong."

One eyebrow, resting beneath a lightning bolt scar, raised curiously. "And what do you mean by that?" he asked.

"You're fifteen, now. A whole hour and a quarter, according to your clock." A warm smile spread under a bushy mustache. "Happy birthday, Harry." He hugged the boy, and kissed him on top of the head. "Now get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day." He stood, and walked out of the room. He paused in the doorway. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Uncle Vernon. I love you!" Harry answered. As the door closed, he let out a sigh. "Busier than you'd ever expect," he muttered.

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"SURPRISE!" yelled more than two dozen voices when Harry reached the bottom of the stairs. He was, in fact, surprised. However, nt by the fact they were there, but that there were so many of them.

In addition to Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Cedric, Cho, Fleur, and Gabrielle, the rest of the Weasleys were there (expected), Uncles Sirius and Remus (expected), Grampa Albus (expected), Tonks (on Remus' arm, expected), Hagrid, Neville, and a few others he had befriended at school from other houses, namely Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. (all un-expected).

A glance from Ginny and a nod let him know their plans were in place. Settling into his chair, he decided to enjoy the next few hours, since they might be the last ones before he would have to become an adult before his time.

Later that afternoon, the fledgling Order of the Golden Light held its first meeting without Parvaiti or Viktor Krum. They were on Holiday in Bulgaria, and rumor had it they were getting MORE than close. "So, we are all in agreement on this?" sighed Harry.

Hermione grinned wickedly at him, her busshy hare shaking as she repressed laughter. "Totally unanimous except you." She held up a small roll of parchment."I even got an owl yesterday from Viktor and Parvaiti who place their votes by proxy."

Cedric let out a chuckle. "Yes, the first official leader of the Order of the Golde Light is one Harry James Potter, Esquire."

"Esquire?"

"Well, it sounds good."

"Okay, then. Next up - do we talk to Grampa Albus first, or invite the others t join us first?" asked Harry, a resigned expression on his face.

They argued about it for a minute, throwing pros and cons around, until it was decided to bring in Dumbledore first. As he crept downstairs to find the old wizard, he overheard a hushed conversation between his Aunt and uncle. "I understand, Vernon. We'll just have to tighten our belts a bit more until the fall."

Harry froze. Tighten their belts? Were... were his Aunt and Uncle having money problems? He sat down heavily on the steps, guilt wahing over him. Here he was, with a vault that had more money than he would ever need in ten lifetimes, and the people he loved were barely scraping by.

"Don't worry, Pet," Vernon was saying. "I still have some saved up in our account, and it should last until the new job starts."

New job? Did Uncle Vernon get fired? Harry was confused, and faced that confusion head on. He stood, and strode into the kitchen. "Uncle Vernon, what do you mean by 'new job'? And Aunt Petunia, why do we have to 'tighten our belts'?"

His family stared. Finally, shamefaced and looking at the floor, Vernon whispered, "You weren't supposed to hear that, Harry."

The young wizard sighed. "Uncle Venon, look. You've taken care of me most of my life. You've given me food, shelter, and even the protection of your love. You might get angry at me for this, but I have to do it. Dobby!" he called out.

POP! "Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir?" squealed the overly-ebullient house elf.

"Err, it seems I'll be helping out with groceries around here." He looked his Aunt and Uncle in the eye, and dared them to say anything contrary. "So, umm, when you go out to buy food, charge it to MY account, not theirs."

Dobby nodded. "Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir. What is my budget."

Harry considered, then settled on a figure he thought would be enough to help out a bit, but not so much that his Uncle would feel like he was freeloading on Harry's money. "I think... ten percent of my weekly income from interest and stocks and the like should do it."

Vernon's eyes raised, proud of his nephew. "I must say one last time, you don't have to do this."

Harry stepped over and hugged his uncle, idly noting they were nearly the same height now. "Yes I do, Uncle vernon." He let go, and stepped back, prodding his own ribs and stomach. "Afterall, I gotta eat, too, you know!"

Dobby chortled. "Harry Potter is the greatest wizard ever! Dobby will go shopping now, goodbye!" And he vanished with a pop.

"That was a rare thing you have done, Harry,' said a voice behind him. He turned, and saw his Headmaster, and the man he had known since he could remember as 'Grampa Albus'. "You do your family proud, those of us who are still here, and those who await us when we go to our rest."

Harry blushed. "Err, well..."

Dumbledore interrupted him. Now, I beleive you and your friends wish to speak with me?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

Slightly confused as to how Dumbledore knew they wanted him, Harry led his mentor upstairs, and to his somewhat crowded room. "Sir... can you please spell the door for privacy?"

With a wave of his wand, all of the windows and doors in the room, even the closet door, slammed shut. "I have also placed an imperturbable charm upon this room, Harry. Now," he added, conjuring a comfortable looking armchair, "what was it you wanted?"

Hermione swallowed, and said, "We know about the Horcruxes, sir. Voldemort's, that is."

For the first time in many years, Dumbledore was surprised by a student. "Horcruxes? Plural?" he managed to breathe.

The group nodded. "We figured out his diary had to have been a horcrux, and since he STILL cme back, he'd have to have more than one. Just how many, we're not certain," continued Hermione.

"It's why we formed Ogl," added Ron, as a couple of glares were sent his way and a nine year old girl giggled.

"Ogle?" asked Dumbledore, now somewhat confused.

Harry bit back a grin. "No, sir. Oh Gee Ell. The Order of the Golden Light."

"Like I said, Ogl!" insisted Ron. He was slugged on the arm by Hermione, but the grin on her face, let them all know she understood what he was trying to do.

"I... see. While I digest that particular piece of information, may I extend my congratulations to Miss DelaCour and Mr Diggory for graduationg thi year, and a welcome back to both Miss DelaCours?"

"Merci, Monsiur Dumbly-dore," said Fleur as she and Gabrielle curtsied.

"Thank you, sir," added Cedric.

"Now, before we move on to the purpose of your informal gathering, might I ask what the pair of you plan to do now that your education is over?" asked the headmaster.

Cedric nodded. "I've been asked to be an Unspeakable, sir. I always was good at Charms."

Fleur blushed. "I have been given ze job with Gringotts, Professor Dumbley-dore."

"Wonderful, Miss DelaCour. But... why are you blushing?" he added.

Ginny, currently sitting in Harry's lap, laughed and poked Fleur slightly in the side. "Because to 'help in her job', she's been getting 'English lessons' from my brother Bill."

Ron chuckled. "Yeah, and they must be studying hard. They usually don't get back to the Burrow until early in the morning."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" shouted Fleur.

"Hey, you said my name right!"

"Of course I did," she snapped. "Bill 'as taught me 'ow to say all of your names for when you must be scolded, after all!"

The old wizard sighed. "I must confess, I find watching all of you in the throes of young love most heartening." He took off his glasses and wiped them on his sleeve as he continued. "However... we must return to business."

Harry nodded, watching his 'Grampa Albus' closely. The ineffable twinkle was still in his eyes, but they were now backed by something harder... something sadder. "Of course, back to business," he agreed.

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Young ones... not even the Order of the Phonix knew about the horcruxes during the first war. I, myself, have only begun to suspect their existance recently, with the incident you refer to. I must do some more investigation, but I promise you, any information I obtain, once it is distilled into its useful essence, shall be passed to you by one means or another."

The various children nodded. Cedric spoke up. "So, then... are you starting the Order of the Phoenix back up?" he asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "That I am. But I must insist that the two groups remain as separate as possible. The Order of the Phoenix will be focused on stopping Death Eater raids and operations, and direct defense of important targets and individuals. Your own group is, of course, under your own control, but it should focus more on research and seeking the weaknesses that shall spell the downfall of Lord Voldemort."

Not even Ron flinched when the Headmaster said the name, to Harry's surprise and pride. "Makes sense, Grampa," he said. "We've got the brightest minds in all of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Oh, and we have Ron, too," he added cheekily.

As the youngest Weasley male tossed a pillow at Harry in mock irritation, there was a knock on the door. Albus waved his wand, and declared, "Enter!"

Of all people, it was Dobby who entered. "Begging many pardons, Master, guests, but I is back from shopping, and was wondering what you is wanting for afternoon snack," he squeaked out as he bowed.

"Err... nothing major," said Harry. "Just some cheese sandwiches, I guess." He glanced around, and saw shrugs and nods. "Yeah, just some cheese sandwiches."

The house elf's tennis-ball sized eyes lit up. "Right away, Master harry potter!"

As Dobby left, Dumbledore replaced the lockingand imperturbable charms. "Now, we must consider the idea of a... cover story for you and your order. Are you planning on remaining the size you are at?"

"No, sir," said Cho. "We're planning on recruiting, well, suitable people from our respective houses."

Dumbledore grinned. "Well, then I think I have an excellent idea. In the coming school year, I beleive I shall institute an open call for study groups of all size. If a given study group happens to reach a remarkable size, and performs research above and beyond the call of schoolwork, then who am I to reign in such a thirst for knowledge?" he asked with more then a little twinkle.

Hermione grinned. "Since it's a student-run group, and not sponsored directly by a teacher, we can let in whoever we want, and exclude whoever we want, right?"

"Precisely, Miss Granger!"

Cedric chewed on his lip. "What about myself, Fleur, and Viktor? We are all out of school.

Stroking his long beard, Dumbledore considered for a moment. "Well, then, I would thank you for the evenings you willingly sacrifice to help tutor the friends you made during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, would I not?" he asked with a wink. "And, of course, the difficulty in finding appropriate child care means that little Gabrielle would be accompanying you, Fleur, would it not?"

"But of course," answered the part-veela.

"Then it is settled, except for one final matter. And that concerns Miss DelaCour, Mr Diggory, and the absent Mr Krum." Dumbledore stood. "I will discuss that at another time, however, when Mr Krum is present. For now, good day, and I will see you at suppertime." He bowed to them, and removed his various spells, then left the room.

"Wow..." said Ginny. "He's actually taking us seriously."

Harry nodded. "He knows me too well," he added, ruefully.

"What do you mean, 'arry?" asked Gabrielle.

The young wizard grinned. "He knows if he forbade me from doing something like this, I'd do it anyway, behind his back."

POP! Dobby suddenly appeared, carrying a tray he set on the floor in the center of the room, between them all. "Cheese sandwiches, Master Harry Potter, enoughfor all of your friends!"

Harry grinned, and thanked Dobby, then bit into one. Flavor virtually exploded into his mouth, a succulence he had never before considered in a cheese sandwich. He couldn't even find words to describe it, and as he swallowed, he fixed Dobby with a stare. "Umm, what exectly is in these cheese sandwiches?" he asked.

Dobby shrugged. "Proschuto and buffalo milk mozzerella, with a hint of balsamic vinegar and sliced fresh tomato on newly-baked sourdough bread. Why, Master? Is it not good enough?"

Everyone froze. Harry almost choked on the last bit of the sandwich in his mouth. "Umm, Dobby, I thought I said ten percent of my weekly income?" he asked, with a hint of anger in his voice.

Dobby stepped back and wailed. "Dobby TRIED, he really did, Master Harry Potter, but could not think of anything more to get that would not spoil! Dobby could only spend... sniff... three percent, Master Harry Potter."

"For... for a week's worth of groceries?" Harry forced out.

"No, sir, for a month's worth," noted Dobby. "Should... should Dobby punish himself?"

"NO!" shouted half the room, causing the poor House Elf to cringe. "I'm sorry, Dobby, it's just... umm... how much IS ten percent of my weekly income?" asked Harry.

Dobby considered. "Dobby went to Gringotts before Dobby went shopping, to find that out. And according to the nice goblin there, you is making eight thousand Galleons a week on interest alone."

Hermione was doing math in her head. "Forty... thousand... pounds... Harry, that's forty thousand pounds in Muggle money! A week! In interest alone!"

"And... everything else?" he asked.

Dobby shrugged. "That is the interest on your trust fund, Master Harry Potter. The family Vault interest is much higher, and then there are the stock dividends, investment returns, and mutual funds. Since Master Harry Potter cannot directly access his parent's family vault for two more years, Master Harry Potter's weekly income totals out to about nineteen thousand Galleons."

"Cor... you never have to work again, Harry. Heck, your great grandkids will never have to work again!" declared Ron, eyes as big as saucers.

Harry was stunned. The average exchange rate was about five British Pounds to the Galleon, so his annual income in Pounds was... Harry began choking immediately.

A few slaps on the back later and something called the 'Heimlich', and Harry was still rather awed. "I'm... I'm making nearly a million Galleons a year? Nearly five million Pounds?" he demanded.

"More or less," admitted Dobby. "Right now, you is behind the Malfoys by a bit. But when Master Harry Potter comes into his majority, he shall be ahead of them, he shall!"

Ron grinned. "Well, then," he said. "I guess you don't need to worry about a few galleons spent on good cheese sandwiches, do you?"

Harry threw his hands in the air. "Go on, Ron, everybody. If we got it, eat it. And Dobby..."

"Yes, Master Harry Potter?"

"Next month, make it only a half a percent,okay? And take Aunt Petunia with you, so she can show you what we usually get," he asked with a grin.

Dobby blushed slightly. "Of course, Master Harry Potter. Is there anything else you need?"

Harry thought for a moment, idly munching on the incredibly delicious sandwich. "Actually, yes. I think we'd each like a glass of milk. Ordinary cow's milk," he added. "And one more thing."

"Yes, Master Harry Potter?"

"While we've got all this food, let's make each meal something special and new, okay? And let ME explain to the rest of the family."

"Of course Master. Dobby shall be right back with milk for Master and his friends!" POP! And Dobby was gone.

"Wow," said Ginny. "I knew you were rich, but... wow..."

Harry bristled a bit. "Not like I have anything I need to spend... money... on..." His eyes unfocused, and he trailed off.

"Harry? You okay, mate?" asked Cedric.

"I've got it!" Harry said, breaking into a broad grin. "Guys, consider the OGL a fully funded operation, now. Which, of course, means I think we need to have more than just a President."

Hermione squeezed Ron's hand, and grinned. "Well, according to Robert's Rules of Order, there are five positions that should be filled. President, Vice President, Secretary, Treasurer, and Sergeant at Arms. We can let Viktor and Parvaiti know by Owl, and hold elections for the position next time we gather."

"Zat sounds good," said Fleur. "I shall be considering my own choices."

"Right," said Harry. "So, next meeting... say, the fifteenth? We can say we're all going early to shop at Diagon Alley. I'msure Tom at the Leaky Cauldron would let us rent a private room to 'store' our belongings in... and hold our meeting."

Upon their collective agreement, Harry stood from the floor, and held his hand out to Ginny. "Now let's go on outside. Uncle Sirius said something about taking us to the Black Family Quidditch Pitch today, and I want to fly!"

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A/N:  
And so begins another year... and the Order of the Golden Light has begun to make its ties with the Order of the Phoenix. But we STILL have yet to learn about Remus's new job, or what he has lined up for Vernon! Ah, well, maybe next time!

Also, last chapter I hit the 100 Reviews mark, YAY!

Now, for my reviewers:

EJC:  
Thank you. Caonon Harry was in some ways too mature for his age, but also emotionally stunted in others. I think my Harry is a bit more balanced in his maturity, but there are still areas where he's not quite as strong.

CRose:  
Events will become even more unexpected. Some events will still happen, though either much earlier or much later, and others may not happen at all, replaced by other vents.

alwaysariyana:  
Yep, he's alive! And so I continue:D

ibfritz: And here's the next chapter for you!

Phyre's child13 and FrequencyQueen:  
Well, I wanted to keep many of the phrasings and events as close to the original I could... but Harry alone, Wormtail as a vicious psychopath instead of a snivelling coward, and the discovery of the Cup as a portkey MUCH earlier than canon definitely changed things.

Taeniaea:  
This soon enough:D

godessa39:  
Dumbledore has already taken steps to make sure it doesn't bite them in the be-hind. :P By effectively making them th R&D arm of the Order, he frees up resources for the fighting arm of the OotP, while keeping the kids safe with important research (he hopes). As for Rita, well, in this reality she was too bored to make her more audacious stories, AND managed a first-hand account of the battle at Little Hangleton and the return of Voldemort, the story of the Century. THIS Rita sees harry as her little gold mine, and will do everything in her power to keep that gold rolling in. She's still the same snide, self-centered, err, witch that she was in Canon, but is pointed in a different direction, now.

snuffles007 and Harry94Ginny:  
Thank you, and here's more!

pax-draconix:  
They will be easier, yes... for NOW...

Heather:  
Fudge really can't even begin to deny Voldemort's return. Too many Aurors and Unspeakables witnessed and participated in the battle, and the stories in the Daily Prophet would make that tantamount to political suicide. As for umbridge and DADA, well, we'll see.

immortalwizardpirateelf-fan:  
Well, he's found out now. :D And I was originally going to have the two chapters as one big chapter, but it was getting a mite unwieldy.

Kin Pandun:  
As was mentioned, Fleur moved to England to work for Gringotts, just like in Canon. And Gabrielle is nine, she has two years before she starts school. Whether Beauxbatons or Hogwarts, who can say. The rest of your questions, well, they'll be answered in coming chapters.

Miss Anonymous hp:  
Thank you for the compliments. I'm a fan of Remus, too, because he's probably the most tragic figure in all of the major Canon characters. One friend died years ago, as a hero. Another died a hero, but thought a criminal, saving the son of his dearest friend. A third friend is a traitor, responsible for more than just the deaths of James and Lily. And he, himself, is cursed to suffer unimaginable agony every month, and live subject to laws as stifling (or more so ) as the discriminatory laws of the 1950's USA. As for the couples, i tried to picture who Krum could possibly end up with, and for some reason my mind nded up saying "Parvaiti". :D

Eris, Queen of the Shadows:  
So, effectively, you're saying I suck at writing summaries. :P (J/K). I'm trying to stay as close to Canon in-character as i can, factoring in the changes caused by the initial ripple. For example, Dumbledore is still the wise, grandfatherly figure he always was... but is slightly more open, and understands the problm with keeping secrets too long. Only the Dursleys are significantly out of character, but then... that''s the whole point, isn't it?

caillion:  
Everyone seems to be happy I spared Cedric. I tell you, I have almost NEVER read a fic where Cedric lived, as if most of the writers believe he HAD to die. He didn't. The only reason he "had" to die was to spark a depression in Harry, IMHO. And Dudley liking the colors was just random, small talk to try and help calm Harry down.

Cheers until next chapter, all! 


	20. Chapter 20: A Wink in Time

Disclaimer: A phrase or sentence used as a pathetic attempt to prevent the Great and Powerul from suing over a teensy bit of fanfiction. Please?

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A Wink in Time

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"Harry, Dudley, you have visitors!" called Uncle Vernon from downstairs.

"Coming!" he replied. He had just finished reading the latest batch of letters from his friends, and smiled. Hermione had been elected Secretary of the Order of the Golden Light, while Fleur was Treasurer, and Viktor was Sergeant at Arms. The real surprise was the decision that, of all people, Ron should be vice-president. Harry, himself, had expected Cedric to be the one to fill that role, but the others merely smiled and nodded when he suggested it. Ron, himself, had suggested Ginny, but she turned it down flat, saying she had enough problems keeping Harry in line as it was.

The recruitment would begin once those members of the OGL still in school got to Hogwarts. The only definite recruits planned were Harry's cousin Dudley, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and on Ginny's insistance, Luna Lovegood. Parvaiti really wanted her sister Padma and her best friend Lavender Brown in, but the others weren't sure. Which, of course, set wheels spinning in Harry's head, in the rarely-used Slytherin side.

Tossing on a clean shirt, Harry bounded down the stairs, to come face to face with some of his favorite people in the world. "Uncle Sirius! Uncle Remus! Grampa Albus!" he declared. He then hopped down the remaining five steps in a single jump, and embraced them all.

Dudley's voice came from the loo. "I'll be right there! I'm almost done shaving!" In the time that Harry had been at Hogwarts, Dudley had turned from a slightly overweight boy into a powerfully built, stocky young man. He really didn't need to shave more than twice a week, but shaving every morning made him feel more adult.

Sirius laughed. "You know you'd go faster with a washcloth than a razor, right, Dudley?" he called back up.

Remus swatted his friend on the shoulder. "I seem to remember YOU shaving an awful lot when we were fifth years, whether you needed it or not," he snorted.

The stairs shook as Dudley trotted down them. "Hiya Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus, grampa Albus!" he called, and took a spot right next to Harry. "Social or business?" he quipped. Yes, quipped - he idolized his 'Uncle Sirius', and did his best to be as much like the man as possible.

"Both, actually," grinned Dumbledore. The five of us are going to visit a place few muggles get a chance to visit."

Dudley's eyes widened. "Hogwarts? The 'real' Stonehenge? Merlin's Cave? Camelot? Avalon?" he asked, rapid-fire.

Remus laughed. "No, sorry. Although we always could stop by Hogwarts on the way back for supper, with Vernon and Petunia's permission, if you want."

Harry scrunched up his nose in thought. "A quidditch game? Merlin's Oak? Diagon Alley? Hogsmeade?" he asked, just like his cousin did, racking is brain for possible places.

"Nope, nope, nope, and nope!" announced Sirius. "We are going to..."

Dumbledore and Remus joined in as Sirius finished his statement. "...Wizard World!"

Dudley and Harry just stared. Harry had heard stories of Wizard World from his classmates, and of course passed them on to Dudley in his letters. They just couldn't believe their ears!

Wizard World was inspired by muggle theme parks, but powered entirely by magic. It had a hall of mirrors that actually transfigured you into the distorted reflection (until you looked at another mirror, or left the hall), and rides on either tame or allied creatures of magic. The games included shooting wand sparks at a target for animated stuffed toys, and balancing puffskeins on one's nose.

After fifteen seconds or so, the boys managed to take a breath and look at each other. Broad grins spread across two young faces. "ALRIGHT!" they cried out.

Vernon himself wondered what it would be like at Wizard World, but resigned himself to the fact that this was a day out for the boys. However, Petunia's raised eyebrow and half-hidden smile gave him hope for a different form of entertainment while they were gone.

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Dudley and Harry almost collapsed onto the bench of the staff table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, completely knackered. They were exhausted from their day, and still going over the fun they had in their minds. Dudley was carrying an animated plush griffon he had won at a rock-tossing game, while Harry thought the plush phoenix he had won as the sparks shooting gallery would be a wonderful present for Ginny.

The side door of the hall virtually slammed open, and a batlike figure in a black cload swept in to the room. He took in the current occupants with a glance, and scowled ever so slightly... and to Harry's eyes, almost more out of habit than any real ill feeling. "Good evening, Professor Snape," he said.

"Potter," the Potions Master replied. "Black, Lupin, Headmaster. And this would be the young Dursley?"

Dudley nodded. "Yes, sir. Dudley Dursley."

Snape sniffed the air as if testing it, and decided it was not harmful in any way. He sat down at one end of the table, as far away from Sirius as he could and still be polite. "Then good evening, Mister Dursley," he replied perfunctorily, and without another word, began eating his supper.

Dumbledore eyed his two self-proclaimed grandsons. "I take it you enjoyed your day, then?" he asked, eyes sparkling like twin diamonds.

"It was marvelous!" said Harry. "Especially when you started to go to the Sparks Shooting Gallery, and the man behind the counter nearly had a heart attack."

"Or the ride on the thestrals," added Dudley. "Since we couldn't see them, and all, it was almost like we were doing the flying, ourselves!"

Snape pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet with a snap. "Trust me, Mr Dursley. While the creatures are, themselves, handsome beasts... you do not want to be able to see one." His voice was dry and bitter, tinged with a hint of sadness.

Sirius, surprisingly, agreed. "I don't know about them being that handsome, but he's right. Harry's told you how to see them, right?"

Dudley nodded. "Yes, Uncle Sirius. You have to... you have to see someone die. But... but didn't Harry see... um, I mean... when Aunt Lily and Uncle James..." Dudley trailed off, unsure as to how to phrase his question.

At the sight of the two boys, now slightly downcast at the turn the conversation had taken, Dumbledore leaned forward,and reached across the table to take each of their hands in his. "It has to do with a certain kind of innocence," he began. "As an infant, all Harry had known was love, just as you did. When his parents died, he had no frame of reference. He didn't understand hate, or death, and so could not lose that part of his innocence. It was frightening, yes. But to someone who is more... mature, seeing someone die, and knowing what it means, is a horror beyond what little Harry experienced."

Snape seemed to be staring off in the distance. "It... it's as if a tiny bit of your soul dies, Mr Dursley. And if... if it is by your own hand..."

This seemed to trigger something in Harry. "But Grampa Albus... what about Quirrell? Or the Basilisk?"

Dumbledore smiled at him. "In the case of Quirrell... he was already dead, my boy. He had become an undead thing long before you first saw him at the Sorting Feast."

"The Leaky Cauldron, sir," interrupted Harry. "I met him in the Leaky Cauldron when we went to get my school supplies for first year."

Remus nodded. "Even so, Harry, you did not kill him. You sent him to where he needed to be."

Snape suddenly stood, grasping his left arm. "Albus, I..."

"Go, Serverus. I will have Poppy standing by just in case." And with the Headmaster's words, Snape bowed, and rushed out of the room with greater haste than Harry had ever seen.

Sirius watched him go, eyes hard as flint. "And you're CERTAIN he's leaning to our side of the fence?" he asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Now, let us return to happier thoughts, shall we?"

zzzzzzz

By the time the house elves came popping into the hall with desert, the boys were laughing again. "And Gred and Forge actually managed to pull it off!" laughed Harry.

Sirius's eyes widened. "Brylcream? THAT'S why his hair is always so greasy?" He smirked. "He actually thinks it looks good?"

"Yep," replied Harry. "And thanks to the twins, his hair was Weasley red for the entire day before the Third Task." Though the third task had been traumatic, Harry found it easier to talk about as time went on, mainly because everyone he cared about, and everyone sent to help him, had survived relatively unscathed. The only serious injury was to Daedalus Diggle, who had narrowly avoided the worst of a blasting hex but was still bedridden. Sirius would joke it was the destruction of his beloved top hat that kept him in bed, not his injuries.

Dudley, meanwhile, was talking to one of the House-Elves about how to deal with one. He rather liked Dobby,but wasn't quite sure how to talk to him without giving offense, or making some kind of mistake.

Another house elf tugged on Harry's pantsleg. "Begging Master's pardon, sir..." the little creature began.

He glanced down, but didn't recognize the creature. "What can I do for you," he asked.

"It... it's about Winky. We has told Master Albus Dumbledore sir, and he said we should be speaking to Mater harry Potter, sir."

Dumbledore caught Harry's eye. "Go on, go to the kitchens with him and meet Winky. You might remember her - she was Barty Crouch Sr's House Elf, he sacked her in the aftermath of the Wold Cup last year."

"I remember, sir," he said. "Hermione, Ron, Ginny and I met her last year during a... err, a walk to the library."

Remus grinned. "And just where were you coming from that the kitchens were on the way to the library?"

Harry returned the grin. "Well, you know, Uncle Remus, those staircases DO move around an awful lot."

"Yep, that's Prong's son," interjected Sirius.

"Be that as it may, go and see to her. When you return, you and I have a bit of an errand to run," noted the aged wizard. "Sirus and Remus will be seeing Dudley home. After all, I beleive they both have dates tonight, do they not?"

Remus only blushed in response, but Sirius slapped him on the back. "Exactly, Albus, dear chap! Remus here has finally asked my dear cousin out on a fully-fledged date, and I'm meeting a magnificent specimin of feminine pulchritude, myself!"

Harry decided that was the perfect time to leve, so he clapped his cousin on the shoulder, and followed the little house elf to the kitchens.

When he got there, the scene was far more grim than he had anticipated. The elves were clustered around a serving tray that had been converted to the equivalent of a hospital bed. Lying on it was the pale, prostrate form of Winky. "Oh, my!" he exclaimed.

At the sound of his voice, many of the House Elves looked up, squeaked, and ran off to do whatever chores they had. Others merely sniffled, or looked away. Winky, herself, did not move. "What... what''s wrong with her?" he asked.

An aged house elf, who Harry remembered was named Domy, approached him. "It is bad, very bad, sir. Her former master, he was not very strong of magic, though strong of spirit. And he had many, many house elves. She had very little inside to help her when she was sacked."

"Mr Crouch wasn't a powerful wizard?" he asked, surprised.

"Oh, do not mistake me, sir," said Domy, "he was not weak. But he was not like yourself, or Master Albus Dumbledore, he wasn't. Strong in conviction, strong in will, yes. Strong in magic, not really."

Harry slowly walked up to the seemingly comatose Winky. "What can I do to save her?" he almost whispered.

Domy sighed. "The young Master must take her as his own house elf, sir. But since she is not awake, very difficult it will be."

Harry looked down at the doll-like form. She was not cute in the way a human child was cute, in fact she was slightly grotesque, but she was about to die, condemned solely for her loyalty to her charges. Something inside him surged angrily at the thought. "I'll do it, if it'll save her life. Tell me how."

Domy looked at him. "Young master has not heard what to do, or how it could fail," he warned.

"I don't care, Domy. It'll save her life," he almost whispered.

The house elves all grew quiet at this. One piped up, "Who is the young Master, willing to do this for a lowly house elf?"

The house elf who had brought him to the kitchens looked out among the gathered elves. "He is Master Harry Potter. The one who took in Dobby," he said.

Domy spoke up again. "Young Master... you must prick your finger, and place a drop of blood in her mouth. Then you must swear you will accept her as your own."

"Is that all?" asked Harry.

"For you... yes, Young Master. But there is still danger." Domy sighed, and tugged on a wispy beard. "If her spirit accepts, then nothingmore need be done She will wake when she is strong enough. But if she does not..."

"What?"

"If she does not, she may drag a part of you into death with her."

Harry stood still for a moment, then crouched down next to Winky. Whispering, he said, "I don't know if you can hear me... but I want you to know this. I'm not doing this because you're dying, I'm doing itbecause what happened to you just wasn't right." He then stood, and turned to Domy. "May I have a knife, please?"

Domy snapped his fingers, and a slender paring knife was in his hand. He handed it, handle first, towards Harry. "You is very brave, for a Young Master," he noted gravely.

"I dunno about that," said Harry, as he saw how keen the edge was. "I'm pretty darn scared right now."

"But not for yourself, Domy wagers, Young Master," muttered the old elf in a voice he didn't think the boy could hear.

Harry stayed kneeling by Winky's impromptu bedside. Steeling himself, he rapidly drew the sharp blade across his fingertip. More blood than he expected welled out, and he rapidly lowered his finger to her half open mouth.

As the blood dripped onto her tongue, Harry spoke. He wasn't sure what to say, but did his best. "I, Harry James potter, son of Lily and james potter, pledge to you, Winky, that I shall care for you, and protct you, with all that I can. You are bound to my family line, now, and we are bound to you. Let... um... let loyalty and love keep that bond strong."

Gasps rose up from some of the elves, but they were silenced by a gesture from another old elf, one Harry didn't rcognize. Domy grinned slightly. "Young Master did not exactly use the old formula, but Young master's words should more than do," he said.

Harry stayed still for several long moments. He felt something inside him reaching, twisting, and very nearly tearing. It hurt, but not a physical hurt - more of an emotional pain, a grief and suffering he had not imagined. Fighting that greif, he thought of everyone he loved. He thought first of his family, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley. Then came Sirius, Remus, Albus, and the Weasleys, especially Ginny and Ron. Hermione floated into his thoughts right alongside Ron, and the remainder of the Order of the Golden Light flowed through his thoughts.

As each person entered his thoughts, and he remembered their love and friendship, he felt the grief ease. He thought of Dobby, and his funnylittle antics and his concern for everyone in the household. He thought of Neville, always eager to help his friends, or try to stop them if he thought it was right. He finally thought of his parents, Lily and James, and he felt he would swell to bursting with the love of their memory.

He was so lost in his thoughts and memories that he nearly missed it. At first, he thought he was seeing things, but he was proved wrong. Her hand had twitched. "Winky! Winky, are you alright?" he asked.

Domy walked up to him, and put a gnarled hand on his shoulder. "Winky will live, she will, Young Master. You has saved her," he said, respect tinging his voice. "Dobby should be called, Young Master, to take Winky to where she can recover."

Of... of course," he said, almost collapsing back onto his heels with relief. "Dobby!" he called out, remembering from second year that house elves can apparate to and from Hogwarts.

POP! Dobby appeared, resplendant in his uniform. "Yes, Great and Noble Master Harry Potter, sir?" he asked proudly.

Ignoring the mutters passing through the crowd of house elves, Harry bent over, and gently picked up Winky. "You... you have company, now. I've taken Winky into my service."

Dobby's eyes grew wide with concern at the sight of his friend, and he gravely held his hands out. "Dobby will take Winky home, Master Harry Potter, sir. And... thank you!"

As Dobby vanished with a second loud POP, Harry heard further muttering from the House Elves. Domy turned to Harry. "You is tired, now, yes?" he asked.

"Just... just a little," he admitted. Then everything went dark.

zzzzzzz

Harry suddenly awoke, to find himself in the Headmaster's office, lying on a couch. He glanced over, and saw Dumbledore watching him, eyes shining. "Ah, you're awake, Harry. Good, it's still evening, yet."

"How... how did I get here?" he asked.

"The house elves brought you up here. Quite a procession, too, almost like an honor guard." As Harry sat up, Dumbledore sat down on the couch next to him. "That was a very selfless deed you did, Harry. And it may have earned you more than just another house elf in your service."

"What do you mean? I had to do something, she was going to die just because she was loyal."

"I know that, my boy. But that is exactl why what you have done was so noble." Dumbledore stood, and extended a hand to the younger wizard. "Now, come. We have someone to meet tonight."

Cocking an eye, Harry asked, "Who?"

Dumbledore smiled. "An old friend of mine, one Horace Slughorn. I hope to convince him to return to Hogwarts - with your help, of course."

zzzzzzz

The room was dimly lit, with neither hearth nor torches, but only a few spare candles scattered around the room. Serverus Snap lay in an undignified heap, as a result of the application of various pain inducing spells up to and including the Cruciatus. Stiffly, as an attempt to maintain what dignity he had, the potions master rose back to his feet. "I am filled with gratitude you have chosen to spare me for my disobedience, my Lord," he wheezed out.

Red baleful eyes regarded him. "Despite your... reluctance to return tome, your reasons did have the ring of validity," admitted the Dark Lord. "And so, I have a task you must perform for me."

"Anything, my Lord."

"Anything? You will give an Unbreakable Vow to that nature?"

Snape paused, using his continued attempts to straighten up as an excuse to ponder his choices. "Yes, my Lord," he answered at last.

"Good," hissed Voldemort. "This is what you must do..."

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A/N : This and the following chapter were originally intended to be a single longer chapter, but I hit a writer's block in the middle of the section that became the next chapter...

And my reviewers:

alwaysariyana:  
Yes, he's manipulative. But he's good at heart. In this case, he's manipulating Harry to be where he needs to be by deliberately earning his trust. He likely manipulates other students in different ways, purely for their own good, of course.

Phyre's Child13:  
Heh, yeah, I always knew Fleur and Bill would be together after her appraising glance in Goblet of Fire at the end. Good luck with exams!

Kin Pandun:  
As you see, I had my own ideas for the various positions, heheh. And Ron needed SOME kind of recognition, after all. As for the OotP and the OGL... hat has yet to happen, so keep reading. Harry will use his 'funding' for things like specific books to reasearch things, and any materials the OGL discovers they will need. The RoR is still there, waiting to be discovered, Winky was dealt with this chapter, and I wish I could have a cheese sandwich like that, myself.

Comet Moon:  
Yes, Ginny is his counterpart, but only wants to take responsibility for him, not the whole durn Order. :D

Shinigami: I have similar problems, sometimes. I have to manually type in the chapter number into the URL, or simply wait a day or two for the cache to clear itself.  
And no, Fudgipants cannot even BEGIN to deny it. And yes, there were about a dozen Ministry wizards, all of them either ranking Aurors or unspeakables. A dozen highly respected individuals is far to many to shout down, especially after Skeeter's breakthrough story. Also, note that Arthur and Molly were left behind at Hogwarts, since they were distracted slightly too long to reach the Portkey Tracer. Only Bill and Charlie, of all the Weasleys, managed to make it to the Portkey Tracer in time.

Snuffles007:  
Yeah, that's the fun point - when a story begins to start striking out on its own, away from the "mommy"...

ibfritz:  
And here, yet again, is the next update. :D

mika:  
Yeah, I mean he knows he has a big vault full of gold, but he doesn't seem to care just how much there is in there. As for Umbridge... time will tell.

Iceman: Now, for all you know, Umbridge won't have an excuse to come to Hogwarts this year. :D

Johnny C:  
Aww, shucks

FrequencyQueen:  
A financial advisor is a good idea. Who would you reccomend, Bill or Griphook?

lily 101:  
To be totally honest, this Harry might actually be marginally LESS powerful than canon Harry (his drive isn't quite as strong), but his versatility might be greater (he pays more attention in class).

gregthebunny2005:  
My mistake, I misread about Tonk's father, thanks! On the other hand, I referred to Uncle Vernon as an Uncle by blood because of Dudley - Harry's cousin, Vernon's son. Harry and Vernon share no blood, but they share blood relations. Sirius and Remus have no such blood connection to Harry. 


	21. Chapter 21:Slugging back to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: Nope, sorry, wish I did. But it's hers, not mine.

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Slugging back to Hogwarts

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"Grampa Albus, why are we here? Professor Slughorn isn't thinking about going back to retirement so soon, is he?" asked Harry.

"Alas, he is, my boy. And I must ask you to help me convince him otherwise." replied Dumbledore.

The two were walking up a lane towards a stately old house. Approaching the front door, Harry asked, "Does this mean that Professor Snape isn't up to par, yet?"

"On the contrary, Harry," said the older wizard. "Serverus is inmost excellent condition, and has recovered fully."

"Then why would we need Professor Slughorn to return? I mean, he did seem a little disgruntled that his 'Slug Club' didn't go over well last year."

"Ah, Harry, there is an opening on the staff, remember? The most common opening, in fact."

Harry's eyes grew wide, then he nodded. "DADA, of course! Anyway, why couldn't you just floo him?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "There is the small matter that he has disconnected his house from the floo network. It makes calling him by floo... problematic, wouldn't you say?"

"Err... right."

They were walking up a stately lane, to where Dumbledore had said Slughorn's house was. But once they reached it, they stood for a moment in shock, as the front door was hanging halfway off its hinges. "What happened here, Grampa Albus?" asked Harry, wide-eyed.

"We shall see," gravely intoned the old wizard.

The room they stepped into was a shambles. Furniture was torn apart, there were holes knocked into the walls, and blood was sprayed about haphazardly. "Well... whatever happened, looks like he put up one heck of a fight..."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Do you notice anything odd at all?"

Harry stopped and looked around. After a few moments, he nodded. "That chair over there. It's not even marked, not even a drop of blood on it."

For a moment, the chair quivered, then shifted. It rapidly formed into the corpulent professor that had assisted Professor Snape with his potions classes for the first half of the previous year. "Drat, I always miss the details," he said.

"Professor Slughorn, what happened here?" asked Harry, concerned.

Dusting himself off, and regarding Dumbledore with an apologetic expression, he said, "Well, when you set off an alarm ward I set up, I trashed the place myself. Hoping to avoid a nasty confrontation, you know."

Harry boggled. "But what about the blood?" he asked.

"Dragon's blod. Frightfully expensive, but not worth my life, you know." He started waving his wand around the room, muttering 'Reparo' under his breath, and the furniture and knicknacks began to reassemble themselves.

"Allow me to assist, Horace," intoned Dumbledore, and in no time at all, the room was clean and tidy. Professor slughorn, however, insisted he use muggle methods to remove the dragon's blood. "It's likely atill salvageable you know."

Once that was done, Slughorn turned to Dumbledore. "I shan't go back, you know. Teaching at Hogwarts, now that HE's back, would be tantamount to declaring my allegiance to you, you know."

"Alas," said Dumbledore. "this is most disheartening. You and I always had such wonderful talks together, you know. And I'm sure the members of the 'Slug Club' will feel deservedly let down. Well, there's no crying over spilt potion. May I borrow your floo to inform Minerva?"

"Of course, it's in the next room," answered the corpulent professor.

Harry looked at all the fine furnishings for a moment, before sitting down on an overstuffed couch at Slughorn's urgings. "Professor... one thing I don't understand."

"Yes, dear boy? My, my, we never have really had a chance to talk, have we? Pity the Malfoy boy managed to drive you out of the Slug Club."

Harry shook his head. "I never have liked being famous, sir. And I really didn't think I could do much in your club."

"Nonsense," said the professor. "Everyone could use contacts. And what a contact you would be for your fellow students!"

"That's just it, Professor. The ones who can count on me know they can out of friendship, not some school club."

"Oh. Right." Slughorn looked uncomfortable for a moment. "So, my boy, what was it you couldn't understand?"

"Why did you think you'd be safer here, with a ruse that a fifteen year old boy could see through, instead of inside a massive fortress covered in the strongest wards known to Wizarding Kind, and under the personal protection of the one wizard Voldemort truly fears?"

This set the rotund potion master back for a moment. "Well, I... I..." His eyes widened, as he sat stunned at his own similar realizations.

About this time, Dumbledore came back. "Thank you, Horace. And I apologize for wasting your time, and your precious dragon's blood. Harry, come along, we shall be going."

"I'll do it!" Slughorn practically shouted.

With twinkling eyes, the headmaster grinned. "What was that, Horace? These old ears aren't quite what they used to be."

"You manipulative old codger. You knew the boy'd say just the thing to get me to join up with you, didn't you?" demanded the professor.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," replied Dumbledore. "But i take it you're accepting my offer?"

"Yes, though Merlin knows why. I'll be there in the morning."

"I thank you, Horace. And you shan't regret it." He put one hand on Harry's shoulder, and the younger wizard stood up. "Time to get you back home, dear boy," he said.

"Of course, grampa Albus," Harry said instinctively.

A questioning look came into Slughorn's eyes, but that vanished at a shake of Dumbledore's head. So the overweight potions master merely raised a questioning eyebrow. The headmaster's response was a grin, twinkling eyes, and to pull Harry slightly closer in an almost fatherly gesture. "I will see you tomorrow at the castle, Horace. Good day!"

zzzzzzz

The train ride to Hogwarts was rather quiet. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all sat in their compartment, once Ron and Hermione came back from their Prefect's meeting, and simply chatted amiably.

At various points during the trip, the twins, Parvati, Neville, and other Gryffindors popped in, along with some of their friends from outside their own house like Cho and Susan Bones. There were several jokes told, and numerous games of wizard's chess, and Exploding Snap, but the ride wasmost memorable for something that did not occur.

Not once, not even for a moment, did Draco Malfoy and the boulder-brained bookends show their faces in the Gryffindor Four's compartment.

Towards the end of the ride, Harry found himself getting nervous. "What''s wrong?" asked Ginny.

"I dunno. If he hasn't been here by now, that means that he's got something big planned..."

As the train pulled into the station, and everyone piled out, Harry scanned the crowd for any sign of Malfoy. He caught a glimpse of Crabbe and Goyle, but no platinum blonde hair could be seen. He pointed this out to the others, who also began looking around.

Riding in their cairrage together, the foursome started talking about something near and dear to the heart of three of them - Quidditch. "Trust me, Ron, you'll make a great Gryffindor Keeper," insisted Ginny. "I've watched you for HOW many years now?"

"But... but I dunno. I mean, it's an important position." Ron started idly chewing on his knuckles.

Hermione scoffed. "I don't beleive this. Why are you so nervous? It's just a game. You SHOULD be worried about your OWLS."

The other three rolled their eyes. Harry patted her on the head, smirking. "With a busy little bee like you as our friend, we'll never be able to forget about them, either."

They made their way to the front gate, and into the Great Hall. Looking up, they saw Professor Slughorn in an animated discussion with an unusually garrolous Snape at the Head table. "Wonder why Snape's so happy?" asked Ron.

"Well, he did seem to be at least decent friends with Professor Slughorn last year, and he has also gotten a lot less snarky," noted Ginny.

"Yeah, I guess. Still can't see nothin' wrong any Slytherins do, though."

The Sorting Ceremony commenced shortly thereafter, and the various children took their places at the appropriate table as the hat sent them to their Houses. Dumbledore announced the feast, and every one dived in.

"So what are we going to do about OGL recruiting?" whispered Ron to the others.

"We'll deal with it in about a week, I think. Gin, pass that to Parvati, Hermione you tell Cho in the Library tomorrow," said Harry.

All too soon, the feast was over. Dumbledore stood, and smiled. "Now that we are all filled with the goodness of nature's bounty, I have the usual announcements to make.

"First, I must remind ALL of the students... ALL of them...that the Forbidden Forest is just that, forbidden. No one is to enter unless under the strict supervision of a member of the staff, preferably Hagrid, the DADA teeacher, or myself.

"Second, our caretaker Mr Filch would like me to remind you that the full list of all contraband is listed on his door for any who care to peruse it, and that magic is forbidden in the halls.

"And finally, I would like everyone to welcome back Professor Horace Slughorn, to the now permanent and full time post of Potions Instructor, and welcome Professor Snape into his role as Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Our new Muggle Studies professor should be arriving by the end of the wek, and I shall introduce him then."

This last statement left everyone stunned. Snape as the DADA teacher? It beggared the imagination.

"Just great," moaned Harry. "My least favorite teacher in my favorite class."

Hermione glanced at him. "Well, at least he can't say you don't have aptitude in that subject," she said, trying to mollify him.

"Oh, no, he'll just teach us diddly and squat," he grumped.

"Diddly? Squat? What are those, Muggle fighting moves?" asked Ron.

"No, Muggle slang. They mean he won't teach us anything worthwhile," said Hermione. "Now come on, Ron, we have to take the First Years to the tower."

"I suppose. Hey, munchkins! Over here!" bellowed the red-headed prefect.

"Ron!" hissed Hermione, clearly appalled. Ginny and Harry, however, hid smiles behind their hands, and watched them lead the deceptively tiny first year Gryffindors to the tower.

zzzzzzz

It was the next day when a mud-splattered, bedraggled Draco Malfoy dragged himself up to the front door of Hogwarts, right as Harry and his friends were heading out to have a bit of a picnic lunch under a large oak. Harry, deciding to bite the bullet, walked over to intercept him. "Malfoy... are you okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Unfocused eyes turned to regard him, and cleared slightly. "No, Potter... I'm not okay." And with that, he passed out cold on the steps of Hogwarts.

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A/N:  
Heh, sorry for the short chapter, but I HAD to end on, as the vernacular puts it, a cliffie. Originally this was part of the previous chapter, but I split it off because the previous one was just too long.

Oooh, what happened to Malfoy? Who is the new Muggle Studies professor (three guesses, heh)? And why are things happening early? No Umbridge? YAY!

Now to my reviewers:

Phyre's Child13:  
Yeah, I always felt sorry for Winky, and slightly angry at the injustice done to her.

Harasas: Heh, he's the exact opposite of Harry in canon, heh. He's had very little exposure to how cruel the real world can be until Quirrell (there were only a few isolated incidents with Piers Polkiss, but nowhere near canon), and when he was shown, he made a conscious choice to find the good in a situation. In many ways, he's just as strong as Canon for it. As for "cute"... huh?

Phoenix2500:  
That's exactly why he got punished. And sometimes I can sit and write for days, other times a single chapter seems to take me forever.

gregthebunny2005:  
Sorry, that was a mistake i didn't catch, I had forgotten I had done that. I hope the convo between Harry and Dumbledore at the beginning of this chapter solves the issue a bit.

Taeniaea, ibfritz:  
Thanks, here's the next chapter!

Kin Pandun:  
I glossed over the prize money, and harry might not have been thinking about it. He will, soon, though. As for the twins leaving school, well there's no Umbridge this year. The OGL manipulating Slughorn is a good idea, but I don't think they'll be QUITE that Slytherin about it. Allies in the goblin world may or may not happen... AFAICT, in canon, as long as the DE's don't attack Gringotts, they'll prolly stay neutral. They'll find out abou the Horcruxes the same way Harry did in canon, and answers to your other questions will be forthcoming.

alwaysariyana:  
Let's just say my Harry's had it easy for now... but soon, it'll get worse.

Snuffles007:  
Yeah. Some events will be similar but out of order, and new events will take the place of old.It took a while to get to that point, but now it's here.

Harry Foureyes:  
In a sense, books five and six will be combined, so to speak. Some events from book 5 will happen, some from book 6, and others that are totally new. And one million galleons a year is only five million pounds - according to "Dumbledore's" note in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, a galleon is equal to (very roughly) five muggle pounds. And i'm still taking suggestions for Financial Advisor, btw, but I'm leaning away from Bill - he was hired as a Curse breaker, not for any financial acumen, after all. And thank you - I based the creation of House Elves on the homunculus, and thenfactored in further ideas. Oh... and let's just say that information revealed when I described how house elves were created will also later explain the Killing Curse!

reedy70002:  
Heheh, yeah. But to be honest, since Vernon and Petunia still LOOK the same (though more pleasant in personality), the thought STILL gives me the shudders.. :P

lily 101: Well, the answer to your first question is now out... as for the rest, who knows?

Myrddin Ambrosius:  
First, Welsh personal name and Romanicised family name? Interesting combo. :D Second, I'm sorry. I'm used to spelling it Parvaiti from a Mythology course I took focusing on the myths and failths from the Indian Sub-Continent, and it's how the professor insisted it should be spelled. I have corrected it in this chapter, and will go back and correct the others when I manage to squeeze out the time.

PlatinumRoseLady:  
WHEEE, you're back! I missed your reviews! And, yeah, the mental image of the movie Dobby, all squeaky clean and strutting around in a nicely pressed tuxedo just makes me chuckle. As for Winky, well, we'll see. places the roses in their place of honor, and offers profuse thanks for the hot chocolate

Barby-Black:  
Thank you! And I am continuing. :D

Tombadgerlock:  
Okay, I can understand why some people don't like the canon pairings. And thank you for the compliments. But why did you quote part of Chapter 11 as one of your comments? 


	22. Chapter 22: Revelations and Conflicts

Disclaimer: T'ain't mine, yannow. Belongs to the handsome blonde lady thar in England, I s'pose.

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Revelations and Conflicts

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"MADAME POMFREY!" yelled Harry, as he and the rest rushed into the Hospital Wing. He was carrying the limp form of Draco Malfoy, his worst enemy in the world, but who at that moment looked more like a helpless orphan child, covered in filth and bruises and caked on blood.

"I'm coming, what's the... oh my word!" The school medi-witch's eyes flew open wide. "You," she said, pointing at Neville, "go get the Headmaster! You, Miss granger, go get Professor Snape! Harry, child, put him on that bed right there!"

No sooner had Harry set Draco on the bed when his adreniline left him, and he began to feel how much he had over-extended himself. Draco was actually slightly larger than he was, and the effort made his arms and legs shake now that he was done, so he plopped down in a chair next to the bed.

Ginny and Ron flanked Harry. "Whaddya think happened to him, Harry?" asked the youngest Weasley boy.

"No clue," said the Boy who Lived, shrugging. "Guess we have to wait until he comes around."

Less than a heartbeat later, Hermione returned with a seriously perturbed Professor Snape. "Is this exactly how you found him, Potter?" he demanded. "You didn't attempt any healing spells of your own, did you?"

"No, sir. Just rushed him down here. Well, checked for broken bones, then carried him here. Woulda conjured a stretcher, but we haven't gone over that in Transfiguration yet." Harry stood to get out of the teachers' way.

"Good thinking, checking for broken bones, but there wouldn't be any," muttered Snape.

"Precisely, Serverus," said Albus Dumbledore, entering the room. Madam Pomfrey seemed to have matters well in hand with Snape's help, so Dumbledore got the children's stories, and nodded gravely.

Ten worrisome minutes later, Snape stepped up beside Dumbledore. "He is stable, but will require the rest of the weekend for bedrest. Perhaps we should... discuss what occurred?"

The headmaster nodded. "Most definitely.. But... I beleive the leader of the Order of the Golden Light should be there, as well."

"Order of the Golden Light?" asked the sallow Potions Master. "I have never heard of it."

"It is an allied group to our own Order, but one focused on research and applied theory as opposed to direct intervention. Well, coming, Harry?"

A scowl crossed Snape's face. "And why would he be there?"

Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore said, "Why, he is the leader of the Order of the Golden Light, of course."

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Fifteen minutes and a funny password later, Harry found himself in Dumbledore's office with the Headmaster and Professor Snape. "And so we called ourselves the Order of the Golden Light, or OGL for short. I'm President, Ron is VP, Viktor is Sergeant at Arms, Fleur is Treasurer, and Hermione is Secretary."

Snape's face split into a tight-lipped grin. "Well, save for Mr Weasley, I must admit you made excellent choices as to your officers."

Not realizing the compliment at first, Harry found the hairs on the back of his neck rising. "Just wait, professor, you'll see. Nobody has a tactical head like Ron does."

"Be that as it may, Albus beleives you should be included in this meeting." Snape eyed the young man, then nodded. "And you have impressed me, as well. While I at first thought you were an arrogant, grandstanding boy, I have been disabused of that notion by your behaviour and your bearing. You are likely often told you are your father reborn. Never beleive that for a moment. You may look like him, but you have her eyes, and the eyes are the window to the soul. You do your mother proud... Harry."

A sigh of pride escaped Dumbledore's lips. "And your father, too. He was more than the arrogant prankster Serverus remembers. Still... Serverus, I beleive it might be fruitful if you were to inform our young ally of the circumstances that led to Mr Malfoy's tenure inthe Hospital wing."

Snape froze, and stared at Dumbledore. An unspoken conversation semed to pass between them, until at last, Snape nodded. "But only if we train the boy's mind. He is not as willful as I had feared, and therefore beleive he could benefit from Occlumency training."

After a nod from Dumbledore, Snape turned to face Harry. "I have bitter news, young man. You are aware that I am a spy in the Dark Lord's forces, feeding information to the Order?"

Harry gulped. "I... I figured it out when I saw the mark, and saw that Gramp... err, Headmaster Dumbledore knew about it and still trusted and respected you," he admitted.

"This summer... I was called into the Dark Lord's presence. And while I was there... h forced me to take an Unbreakable Oath."

Harry looked slightly confused. "What is an unreakable oath? Are you physically incapable of breaking it? Or is it that if you DO break it there are... consequences?"

"Harry," began Dumbledore, "if one breaks an Unbreakable Oath... on dies. Usually in a rather dramatic and sometimes messy manner."

A sickening feeling of dread crept through Harry. "Professor Snape... what, exactly, did he force you to swear?"

Snape fixed the boy with a glare, but his eyes softened for a moment. They hardened again, and he answered, "The Dark Lord has tasked me with assassinating Headmaster Dumbledore before the end of the term, or die trying."

"NO!" exclaimed Harry. He fought the urge to rush into Dumbledore's arms and hold him and possibly even cry, knowing he was getting to old to do so. "Isn't there any way for you to..."

"Sadly... no," admitted Dumbledore. "However, at this point in time, Serverus is more important to the cause than I am. As long as I can pass along to you what I know of how Voldemort thinks and acts, before the end of the term, then I will be prepared to move on to the next great adventure."

Harry's eyes darted wildly between Snape and Dumbledore. He knew, in his deepest understanding, that what his 'Grampa' had just said was very possibly true. Even as a 'rogue Death Eater' in the eyes of most of the Order of the Phoenix, he could still pass vital information, even more so if Voldemort was convinced of his loyalty. All Dumbledore could add would be his immense power - power that the prophesy excluded from being actually capable of finishing the deed. Eventually, he simply sat, realizing there was more to hear.

Snape's silky voice was oddly calming. "I argued with the Headmaster about this very subject, Potter. He is unyielding. As for Malfoy... first, consider how he was raised."

"As a Junior Death Eater, you mean?"

"Precisely. He was brought up beleiving in not just the superiority of power of a Pureblood, but also in their MORAL superiority. In his mind's eye, half-bloods, muggle-borns, and muggles root around in the dirt, rut like barnyard animals, and lay their droppings on the botom-most rung of society. He thought the Great Cause would include a few Killing Curses, some glorious battles, and finally a lifetime of absolute privelidge and wealth at the side of the Dark Lord." said Snape. "And it was with such thoughts that he came to me this summer, proud his Head of house had been chosen for such a glorious mission against the great Foe."

"Wh... what happened, then?"

Snape smiled grimly. "I merely showed him images in my penseive of what REALLY took place during a Death Eater attack. The torture, the rape, the murder, and the senselessness of it all. Afterwards... afterwards, Mr Malfoy became quite physically ill. I beleive it may have had something to do with recognizing his own father, then in his early twenties, performing horrific acts upon a child of only fourteen."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "Then... he confronted his father, didn't he? And that's why he's in the Hospital Wing right now?"

"Most likel," agreed Dumbledore. The old man's eyes were sad, with nary a twinkle in them. "It is a testament to his own will to survive that he managed to escape. How he managed to reach Hogwarts, however, I do not yet know."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Professor Snape... this basically means he can't ever be used as a spy the way you are, right?"

"Correct. He has been... compromised by his outburst."

Harry's eyes grew hard and cold. "Then when he recovers, he needs to make a decision. Will he join the fight on our side? Or will he get the hell out of our way?"

zzzzzzz

Sunday was quiet, as Harry passed the word along to the rest of the OGL about the source of Draco's injuries... but not the full reason. Neither did he share the secret of Snape's Unbreakable Vow, or of Malfoy's reactions to the Penseive memories. He also suggested that NOBODY take it easy on the Slytherin, as that would be something he would DEFINITELY not want.

Monday morning rolled around, and Harry walked Ginny down to breakfast, along with Ron and Hermione. Their schedules were being passed down, when Harry noticed something new. "Hey, since when do I take Muggle Studies? Says it's first class today."

Ron did a double take. "Hey, I've got it marked down, too!"

Hermione shrugged. "Perhaps it has something to do with the new Muggle Studies teacher? They said he'd be arriving just in time for his first class."

At that moment, the doors of the Great Hall opened, and a recovered Draco Malfoy strode through into the Hall. He walked with his head held high and his arrogance undiminished, but with the malicious glee he normally injected into it replaced with a cold sneer. The entire hall grew silent as he approached the Slytherin table, and it was all Harry could do to keep from staring.

There was a large section of bench that had no one sitting on it, and that was where Malfoy sat. He glanced down the table, to where a stunned Crabbe and Goyle held their usual places, but Malfoy's place was taken by Theodore Nott. Even the first year Hufflepuffs could feel the balance of power in Slytherin House tipping precariously for a few moments, even if they couldn't put it into words.

Malfoy locked eyes with Nott, and simply stared. Most of the rest of the Slytherins picked up their trays and backed away, to watch the battle of wills. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson all three seemed to be trapped, somehow, between the two gazes.

No one was quite sure when it happened, but it did, and Slytherin House became a house divided. The first one to move was, surprisingly, Blaise Zabini. He strode back to the table, sitting directly across from Draco, and idly loading his plate with a couple more pancakes.

The rest of the Slytherins rapidly settled into two camps at this action. Many sat back down next to Nott, including Crabbe and Millicent Bulstrode. But more, just over half, gathered themselves around Malfoy, including Goyle and Pansy Parkinson.

The entire Great Hall breathed a sigh of relief, even though the conflict had only been begun, rather than averted. "What do you suppose all that was," asked Ron seconds before he stuffed a link of sausage in his mouth.

"The beginning of one of the most important battles of the War," muttered Harry. "Anyway, pass the eggs, please."

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Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Parvati all filed into Muggle Studies, which wasshared with both Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Officially, all four houses took this class together, but no one from Slytherin had taken this class in nearly a century.

Once everyone was seated, they noticed four seats still empty - one of them being the Instructor's desk at the front. "Here's hoping the teacher gets here after the students, eh, Hermione?" asked Ron.

"Hush, the door's opening, it's likely the teacher!" she hissed.

But it wasn't. Instead, it was Malfoy, Parkinson, and Goyle. Parkinson was latched firmly on Malfoy's arm with a defiant glare, but Goyle looked lost, alone, and somehow small without Crabbe by his side. The three Slytherins took their seats amid hushed whispers. Harry merely turned his head to malfoy and nodded faintly. To his surprise, Malfoy returned the gesture.

Then the classroom door burst open, as a heavyset man with a thick, walrus-like mustache barged in. "Stupid poltergeist," he rumbled, "good for nothing spook messing with mere children, I swear, something should be... Class!" he said, looking up at them and smiling broadly.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry's eyes were wide, and his voice had chosen that moment to crack for the first time in almost two years. 'Well,' he thought, 'at least that explains why I was given Muggle Studies this year.'

"Good morning, class, I am Professor Vernon Dursley, and this is rather obviously Muggle Studies class. While some of you are muggleborns or were raised as muggles, thinking this to be an easy class, you will find it is not. Mainly because this year, as your OWL year, is all about finding the ways muggle and wizarding society are similar, not different. Now, while I am familiar with several of you, there are others I am not familiar with. Please answer as I call your name for roll."

As class went on, Harry found himself fascinated by the class, especially with his Uncle teaching. His style was most unlike either Sirius or Remus, mainly because there could be no practical exam in this class other than living life. Vernon would deliberately call on students who did not have their hands up to answer questions, and seemed to know whether it was timidity or arrogance that kept them silent. The timid he coaxed answers out of, often the correct ones, while the arrogant he showed did not seem to know as much as they beleived they did.

Leaving class, Ron and hermione turned to Harry. "Cor, why is it your uncles are three of the best teachers we've had?"

Parvati, beside them, giggled slightly. "And the look on Parkinson's face when he proved how Muggle banking systems were more robust than Gringotts... like she swallowed a lemon."

Harry shrugged. "Uncle Remus was an Auror, and Uncle Sirius still is. Figures they'd know a thing or two about DADA. And, well, Uncle Vernon is a muggle who's lived with the Wizarding World as a part of his life since before I was born."

Hermione was chewing on the end of a strand of hair. "Did you notice how Malfoy behaved?" she asked.

"Yeah... odd, wasn' it?" noted Ron. "He actually paid attention, and didn' make any snide comments."

Harry looked at his friends. "Look, I think something happened more than his Dad. Let's not start anything with him unless he starts with us. Sort of an unspoken truce, okay?"

Ron shrugged. "Fine by me. I can deal with a year of no Malfoy comments if you can."

Hermione added, "Agreed. Now let's get going, we have only a couple more minutes to make it to Transfiguration!"

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Petunia Dursley sat in the staff room, anxiously waiting for her husband to come back after his first class. She heard the door open, and looked up hopefully, but it was 'only' Madame Hooch, the flying instructor. "Oh, good morning, madame," said the heavyset witch. "I don't beleive we've met."

"Petunia Dursley. I'm the wife of the new Muggle Studies instructor, Vernon," she introduced herself, holding out her hand.

"Petunia... not Lily Evans' sister?" said Madame hooch. "Oh, my, I'm so glad to meet you. Your sister was a wonderful person. Err, not an outstanding flyer, but most definitely a wonderful person."

A bittersweet smile stole across her face. "Yes, Lily Potter was my sister. And she most definitely was a wonderful person, even if i was too blind to see it while she was here. Thank Go... err, Merlin we were reconciled before our children were born."

"Oh, most definitely. I assume you and vernon are using the Maried Staff quarters?" she asked politely.

The muggle woman nodded. "As far as I know, we are the only ones, too."

Madame hooch took an evil grin, and looked around, then leaned in. "Word has it," she began consppiratorially, "that the longest running star-crossed couple in the school may be joining you before the year's out!"

A voice from the doorway interrupted them. "Oh, Xiomara, that rumor's been flying around for nearly forty years." It was Professor Vector, the Arithmancy instructor. "Good to meet you, ma'am. Mrs Dursley, am I right? This old gossip here," she continued, ignoring Madame Hooch's indignant cry, "has been trying to turn her wishful thinking about Albus and Minerva into reality for years, now."

Petunia was rescued from the impeding meeting of rationality and hopeful gossip by the arrival of her husband. He strode in the door, and gleefully swept her into a hug. "Pet, my dear, it went WONDERFULLY! I do beleive I may have found my calling!"

This seemed to stave off Vector and Hooch's argument. "Well, congratulations, Mr Dursley," said professor Vector. "Though I don't envy you teaching all four houses at once."

Vernon shook his head. "On the contrary, they were all quite well behaved. Something about the three Slytherins, though... they behaved totally different from how I'd been warned."

"Indeed. There is a complex series of events, a crucial one, occurring there," came a voice from behind him as Professor Snape entered the staff lounge. "The three in your class are, in my opinion, the best hope for my house."

"I don't understand, Serverus. According to Harry, Gryffindor and Slytherin are like two monoliths. While Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are not so tightly bound, those two seem to wrap themselves in their house identity like a second skin," said Vernon.

"And what happens when a chisel is applied to the proper spot on a monolith, Professor Dursley?" asked Snape.

Comprehension dawned. "So then whatever happened to young Mr Malfoy over the summer was the chisel."

"Precisely. And I can only hope that Slytherin House is thus carved into a gemstone, and not reduced to rubble."

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End of Chapter

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A/N:

Well, it's begun. Slytherin House is divided among itself - and we have learned the awful task before Serverus Snape! Harry will learn about Voldemort's mindset early, AND will be taking Occlumancy from a much more agreeable Snape.

What about the recruiting for the OGL? Will they have Liasons? And will Umbridge keep her filthy nose out of matters that don't concern her? Only time will tell!

And once again, sorry for another relatively short chapter.

On to my reviewers:

immortalwizardpirateelf-fan:  
I wouldn't say TRUST, exactly...

mika:  
Well, we found out what happened to Malfoy, and yes, it was Professor Dursley. As for Remus... well, that just hasn't been brought up in the story, yet, has it:)

hermione21:  
Err... I read this review after I had planned out through the end of Harry's fifth year... and I hate to say it, but I will be sorry to lose your readership, because at least one of them WILL die...

lily101:  
No, Harry couldn't leave ANYONE to die like that. Not even the Canon Harry. In the train incidents in canon, he knows Malfoy isn't seriously hurt, so he leaves him there. But here and now, seeing how badly hurt the boy really is, he can't just leave him there.

CRose, TricaLee:  
Heh, yeah. I don't normally go for cliffies, but I couldn't resist that one.

Myrddin Ambrosius:  
Why, thank you! But I must admit I have seen COUNTLESS spelling and grammar mistakes on looking back, but they always say the creator's eye is the most critical.

Phyre's Child 13, Taeniaea, Frequency Queen, Essiekl, Darklight, snuffles007:  
Why, yes, he WAS pretty badly hurt and out of it when he was found. And here's the new chapter for you who asked!

Harry Foureyes:  
Nope, was neither Voldie nor his mummy, 'twas his DADDY! And hey, everyone makes mistakes with money, I just wish the bank had made a mistake in my favor the way you did. 770 becoming 7700 would be mighty appreciated, heh.

Heather:  
As we learn in this chapter, it was to assassinate Dumbledore before the end of the term.

Harry94Ginny:  
Thank you, and here's the update!

ibfritz:  
Jeez, thirty chapters as a one-shot? YEOWCH!

Shinigami:  
As you can see, not only is Vernon the MS prof, but Snape is, in fact, nicer to Harry and company. Of course, he's got bigger problems in his own house to deal with, but still...

malexandria:  
As the time passes, and probabilities branch away from canon, I'm able to weave more and more of my ideas in there, eh:D

Cobra-100:  
Bingo on Vernon, totally off the mark on Draco, heheh.

lily 101:  
In HBP, Snape became the DADA teacher because Dumbledore knew that for one reason or another (dying from breaking the Oath, or run out of Hogwarts for killing him), Snape would no longer be at Hogwarts, and IMHO Dumbledore did not want to see Serverus fall prey to the jinx on the position which is why he didn't do it earlier. With that excuse gone, he relented, and let Snape teach DADA. The same reasoning applies hee, but a year earlier.

bandgsecurtiyaw:  
Well, I updated! So just read and read! And don't just read my stories, read stories like "Just Going With It" and "The Cracked Reservoir", or "Fate's Debt", they're awesome! 


	23. Chapter 23: Friends and Enemies

Disclaimer: Wish they were, but they aren't. You know the drill.

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Friends and Enemies

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It was a quiet day in the Hogwart's library, and Harry found himself sitting and reading up on views of muggle life from a wizarding perspective. He had avoided the topic for hs first four years at school, but now that his Uncle was his professor, he had been amazed at how fascinating it really was.

Across the table, Ron sat upright in his chair, head bent, and apparantly scanning a book on transfiguration. On closer observation, however, one would notice that his eyes were closed, and his breathing deep and regular. In fact, he was quite asleep. How he slept sitting up, Harry had no idea, but he was certainly glad that his current posture kept him from snoring.

They would normally have been joined by Hermione and Ginny, but the former was in Arithmancy class, and the latter in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The two boys had a break period, and even at the moment neither of them could explain why they found themselves in the library.

Footsteps disturbed Harry's train of thought, and he looked up from his book. He was somewhat surprised to see Draco striding towards them, the cold sneer that was his mask and armor still emblazoned on his face. Gently waking the lightly dozing Ron with a tap from his foot onto the redhead's shin. the Boy who Lived straightened his posture, and nodded a neutral greeting as the platinum-blonde pureblood stopped some five feet away.

Draco's eyes flickered from Harry to the still groggy Ron and back. "You should know," he said in a quiet voice, "that I still don't like you." The boy's scowl deepened. "Not one damn bit."

Harry took it in stride. "I didn't expect you to."

"I just... I just found out what hatred is. And... and I can say I really don't hate you." Draco closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "I think you'll find my attitudes have changed, somewhat, in fact. Though you personally, and your cohorts, are unaffected overall by this."

Ron had come fully awake by this time, and narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin. "Then... why tell us?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

"Simple, Weasel. Because it affects all of Slytherin House. And therefore affects all of Hogwarts... and thus potentially the entire War." Draco's voice dropped to nearly a whisper, and he took another step forward.

"I do not like you or your family, Weasley. I do not like you, Potter. And I do not like Granger. That is personal. That will never change." The boy's back seemed to stiffen, and his jaw rose nearly an inch. "But I do not beleive that many of my prejudices were entirely founded."

Harry thought about what Draco said, and there was a momentary lull. "Malfoy... I don't beleive for one minute you've embraced equality with your fellow man."

"Of course not," came the sneering reply. "But I have learned that superiority is more than just blood. True, Granger is an admirably powerful and versatile witch. I can admit that now. But she is still an insufferably, bossy know-it-all who would best be served acting as a dominatrix in a sex parlor. She has the power... but not the money, or the breeding."

"Hang on," said Ron, "I thought you said you didn't think blood was important any more?"

"Pheh," snorted Draco. "Breeding is more than blood or money, Weasel. It's about how one comports one's self among nobility, and the powerful. It is knowing one's place in society, and how to properly claim the next highest position... or accept the next lower, should one's machinations fail. It is something I do not believe a Gryffindor can understand."

Harry nodded. "Seen enough about muggle Nobility to get an idea, Malfoy. Now, should we draw our wands now or in a few moments? You know, because we have been sitting here calmly chatting for far longer than normal. People are beginning to think you like us or something."

In fact, the entire library had gone even more silent than would be expected, and though their conversation was still to low for the nearest students to hear, everyone was paying more attention to them than they likely did their professors. Even Mrs Pince, the librarian, was watching them worriedly and fingering her wand.

"In a few moments, Potter," said Draco with a wry grin that quickly slipped back to his cold sneer. "I'm telling you this because Slytherin is in two camps now - mine, and Nott's. And Nott is every bit as bad about blood as I used to be. By taking a stand last week at breakfast, Slytherin is in more dangerous a position than anyone except you and your immediate associates. It is not like one of my house to take sides blatantly and publicly, you know."

"Yes, yes, yes. I'm waiting for the part where you tell me something I DON'T know?" drawled Harry.

"Simple. If I win, Slytherin is a non-entity from the point of view of the war. Individuals may join up with the Dark Lord, but not the whole house. If I lose..." The blonde boy let it hang there.

The alternative was quite clear, and even Ron could see it. "Thanks for the warning," he muttered.

"It was... appropriate," noted Draco. "And by the way, Weasel?"

"Yes?"

"RICTUSEMPRA! Have a nice day!"

As Harry rushed around the table to get a clear shot at breaking the tickling hex on Ron, he glanced up, and saw the doors closing behind the slippery young man.

zzzzzzz

Dinner was, as was usual since Draco's return, relatively quiet. A tension hung in the air, and no one could tell which way the pendulum would swing. Tonight, Nott's camp held slightly greater numbers, as evidenced in the gap between the feuding factions. The only constants were Pansy and Goyle on Draco's side, and Crabbe and Daphne Greengrass on Nott's.

"Harry, I need to speak to you and your friends for a moment after dinner, please," said Uncle Vernon as he passed by the Gryffindor table on his way to the head table.

Harry glanced around, and noticed they all nodded back. "Okay, Professor," he said with a grin. "Is this detention for something?"

Vernon laughed. "No, indeed, my boy. We just have some friends visiting who would like to speak with you."

Taking a guess at who the 'friends' were, Harry wolfed down his food, and waited impatiently for the others to finish their own meals. "Take it easy, Harry," said Ron, just before taking a rather large bie of steak and kidney pie. "Yf hamft wot n yr umcffl."

He glanced at Ginny, who interpreted 'foodinmouthese' for him, having many long years of practice. "He said, you have to wait for your uncle." She grinned at him, and placed a bit of a scrumptious looking blackcurrant pastry on his plate. "Try this while we wait on him, it's really good!"

Sighing, he decided to humor her while he waited. Taking a bite, his eyes lit up. "Thfs vs GWUD!"

Ginny laughed. "Didn't I tell you?" Hermione tut-tut'ed under her breath, and handed Ron a new napkin, but she couldn't hide the guilty pleasure of not a little laughter behind her eyes.

Finally, dinner was over, and the four made their way to his Aunt and Uncle's quarters. To their surprise, they were joined by Cho and Parvati. "Your Uncle invited us, too," said Cho, grinning. At once, Harry knew that Cho knew something he didn't, and the identity of the 'friends' Uncle Vernon had mention suddenly shifted down in age about twenty years, and double in number.

Sure enough, when he walked through the door behind the statue of Kronk the Crafty (goblin warlord in the 1157 uprising), he saw Cedric, Viktor, Fleur, and Gabrielle waiting for them. "Guys! It's good to see you!" he declared, and they made their greetings with hugs, and the occasional kisses between Cho and Cedric, Viktor and Parvati, and from Fleur and Gabrielle to everyone.

Vernon and Petunia excused themselves, ostensibly o go on a tour of the castle with Professor McGonegall. "So who were you expecting?" asked Ron, as the Order of the Golden Light sat down on various bits of furniture around the room.

"Actually, I thought he was talking about Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus," admitted Harry.

A voice from the door surprised him. "Did I just hear my name?" There, his long shaggy hair dangling down onto the collar of his robes, stood Sirius Black himself. Beside him, resplendant in brilliand purple robes, was Headmaster Dumbledore. "Hiya, kids, what's shaking?" asked Sirius.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "It appears that the other Order is haing a meeting, my friend."

"The OTHER order?" asked Sirius.

Turning back to the youngsters, the headmaster smiled. "Do not worry. Sirius, here, is a member of my own order, the Order of the Phoenix. You may tell him anything you feel comfortable divulging about yourselves, and your organization."

Harry swllowed. "Well, Uncle Sirius... umm... we sorta started meeting like this last year, after the Second Task... and kept doing it. We figured out a few things about Voldemort, and decided to, um, make it official."

"Oh, did you now?" asked Sirius, grinning. "So who's the boss?"

The nine other members all said, "Harry!" quite gleefully, pointing directly at him.

"Traitors," he muttered, though he fought to hide a grin. "But Ron's the VP, and..." Quickly, he ran down the list of officers for the OGL. "And next week after Quidditch Practice, we're going to be holding our first meeting with the new recruits."

"Cool. Where you having it?" asked his godfather.

"Err... we're still trying to figure that one out," admitted Harry.

Sirius looked thoughtful. "You know... there's that room on the seventh floor I learned about from the house elves back in seventh year... Filch had already swiped the map, so I couldn't add it..."

"How big is it, Mr Black?" asked Cedric.

"As big as you need. Literally." He grinned. "You have to walk past the opening three times, thinking about the kind of room you need, and POP! There's a door. And it opens onto exactly the kind of room you were thinking of."

"Wow," said Ron. "Any limits?"

"Well, nothing from inside the room can go out. And you can' make books you don't know exist and haven't at least scanned, stuff like that." He scratched his head. "I never did find out if food the Room conjured was real food or not, though I guess it would be. Once it's eaten, it's not wha the Room conjured up anymore, after all."

"Zat sounds like it would do perfectly," said Fleur. Her accent was fading, but was still quite discernable.

"Now, who all have you decided to recruit?" asked Sirius, flopping down crosslegged on the floor. "I hope to god you're including the twins in this, they'd never forgive you otherwise..."

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The morning before Quidditch practice the next week, Harry awoke to something on his bead. Two somethings, in fact. Identical somethings. "Oh, ickle Harrikins," began one of the somethings.

"What is this we have here," continued the other something.

"... in this letter?"

"The one from Gringotts?"

"And this other one?"

"From Gratchett and Scrab, Attourneys at law?"

Rubbing his eyes, Harry shoved one of the somethings just hard enough to move and reach his bedside table. Grabbing his glasses and putting them on, he was now abl to focus on what was indeed the Weasley Twins. "What about them? I'd think they were self-explainatory."

"Ten thousand Galleons, Harry? That's a LOT of money!" blurted Fred. He knew it was Fred, because george had a small cluster of freckles near the left corner of his nose that Fred didn't.

"So?"

"And the paperwork for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to be a registered company? With us as primary shareholders and you only a secondary shareholder?" demanded George.

"And?"

"Harry.."

"Mate..."

"What's it all about?" they both asked together.

Harry extricated himself from the bed the twins were still sitting on, and began to gather his things for Quidditch practice. "Simple. Remember the Tri-Wizard Tournament winnings? I mentioned offering it to you to help you with your joke shop this summer."

"Yes, Harry, but that was only a thousand! This is ten times that!" protested George.

Harry grinned and started getting his uniform on. "If you'll read the papers, you'll see that nine thousand of it is a loan, to be paid back over a period of a hundred years, in the form of a hundred Galleons' worth of Wheezes or Chocolate Frogs, whichever you prefer to offer, per year."

"But... but Harry, we're just jokesters and con artists!" protested Fred. "I mean, the most we ever thought we could do would be mail order! With this... blimey, Harry, we can open our own shop this summer, now, and even pay for advetising, AND hire someone to work the desk while we experiment!"

"You do realize that was kinda the point, right?" he asked, looking at them.

"But..."

"Stop," asked Harry. "Voldemort is back. The War is rapidly gearing up to full throttle, and people are going to be depressed. We're going to need a few more laughs in the years to come. If you have to think of it this way, I didn't invest this money in you." He bent over, and started tying his trainers. "I invested it in the morale of the Wizarding World. And it's up to you to help keep that morale high, and make everybody laugh."

The twins jumped up from the bed. "You're right!" declared George.

"It's our civic duty!" announced Fred. They both struck poses that they beleived appeared 'noble', as if posing for the statue they would one day have in front of the Ministry of magic. Then they began singing a horrible song, to the tune of God Save The Queen, about the purity and heroism inherant in using dungbombs to blow up old toilets, and marched straight out of the room.

As he watched them go, only one word crossed Harry's mind. "Mental," he sighed.

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The door to the Room of Requirement opened for the first time since Dumbledore had accidentally opened it and found it full of chamberpots. It was after a rousing Quidditch practice, and Harry was simply buzzing. "I TOLD you you'd do great!" he crowed, slapping an arm over Ron's shoulder.

The redhead grinned, but his ears were burning red, a sure sign he hadn't been quite so sure himself. "Yeah, I guess i did," he admitted.

Behind them walked Ginny and Hermione. Ginny had a smug expression, but Hermione's face was totally lit up. "I'm so proud of you! You didn't let your nerves beat you!"

Shortly after, Parvati entered. "So did you make it, Ron?" she asked.

"Make what?" asked Cho, as she too entered.

"May I present Gryffindor's newest Keeper!" Harry proudly announced.

Cho squealed. "That's so wonderful!" She gave him a brief friendly hug. "It's a good thing I'm not a chaser. It's one thing to be going up against Harry hunting for the snitch, it'd be another trying to get goal after goal after goal past a friend."

Ginny giggled. "Just wait 'till next year, when there's a Chaser spot open for Gryffindor. Then I'll be scoring goal after goal after goal on Ravenclaw. And Hufflepuff and Slytherin, of course."

Parvati sidled over to Hermione. "Do you ever think we should learn Quidditch, just so we aren't outnumbered anymore?"

Hermione chuckled. "It's a good thing Fleur doesn't play. But didnt she say something about gabrielle wanting to play like harry?"

About this time, the graduated and foreign members walked in. Gabrielle wasted no time claiming hugs from her "brothers and sisters", and another round of congratulations were given to Ron.

"Okay," said harry as they began settling down. "Our new recruits will be showing up in the corridor in about half an hour, so we should be ready. Hermione, you got the list of names to Cedric, Viktor, Fleur, and gabrielle, right?"

"Of course," huffed the bushy-haired witch. "I did that ages ago. She was backed up by the nods of the aforementioned members.

"Good. And nobody has any problems with any of them?" He waited, but nobody spoke up. "Good. Okay, I think we need to be more than just research, despite what Dumbledore said."

"But Harry," said Hermione, "why? There's the Order of the Phoenix for the dangerous tasks."

"Because... well, I have a feeling that when it comes right down to it, we're going to be the ones fighting this war after we graduate. And you all know about the Prophesy. And as much as i love Remus, Sirius, and Grampa Albus, I'd feel one helluva lot better if you were all at my side, in one way or another, when the showdown comes." Harry ran his hand throuh his hair. "Except Gabrielle, of course."

"And why not!" demanded the nine yar old girl.

"For one, you have yet to have any training at all, and don't have a wand," said Viktor bluntly.

"For another," interrupted Harry, "we'll need coordinators. And that means people sitting well back from the front lines, where they can see what's going on and who needs help."

Fleur looked at Harry and smiled gratefully. She knew Harry had jus made that up as a way for her to be safe from the fight, yet not feel like she was a child.

"Right. Well, we got about twenty people starting to pile up out there any minute now. Wanna go welcome them, Hermione?" asked Ron.

The new members of the Orde of the Golden Light were hand-chosen by the group out of those hogwarts students most likely to fight with everything they had against the machinations of Voldemort, and with both the talent and determination to see it through. They included the twins of course, as well as Katie, Angelina, and Alicia, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Parvati's sister Padma, Luna Lovegood (on quiet insistance from Ginny), Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, and several others from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, ranging from fourth years through seventh years. Some, such as Cormac McLeggan, were rejected becase of too many personal disagreements. Others, like Lavender brown, were rejected because not even Parvati thought she could take it serious enough.

As the room filled, Harry was glad he had thought to include a daias. Ten chairs were up there, and the current members of the OGL occupied those chairs. Clearing his throat, he muttered 'Sonorus', and faced his fellow students.

"Thank you for coming this afternoon. On the surface, this is just a DADA study group. But the reason you were asked here is slightly more important.

"As you may remember, the climax of the Third Task last year culminated in the return of Voldemort." He paused, as most of the people present, including Ron and Parvati, cringed or gasped. "Well, we're here to do what we can to help fight him."

Dean called out. "But what can we do? We're just students?"

Ginny fixed him with a glare. "And it was just a student," she said, jerking her thumb at Harry, "who held the Dork Lord off until help could get there! And yes, i said Dork Lord, not Dark Lord."

Harry looked over the crowd. "What we can do, is keep our ears open. And our eyes. And our minds. You hear something suspicious? Pass it along to one of the people up here wih me, and we can pass it to the people who can do something about it. And we can also do what we claim we're here to do - study DADA. Intensively. Hands on. When we leave school, we'll need to be able to stand on our own two feet like graduates of the greatest wizarding school in the world, not cowerin our shadows afraid of men who kiss a liche's robes."

Fleur and Viktor cried out a little indignantly at Harry calling Hogwarts the greatest wizardry school on the planet, which helped break the modd ever so slightly. He continued, however. "When we meet, we're going to study not what's in our textbooks, but what's in this book." He reached into his robes, and pulled out a thick black book. "It was a gift from my godfather earlier this year. It's the Advanced Auror Training Manual."

This got everyone's attention, even the twins. "Cor, think of the ranks we could pull with that one!" said one of the twins.

"If you pull pranks with this," said harry, "pull them on Death Eaters or Voldemort. But I don't think a Canary Creme will keep him from killing you, nfortunately," quipped Harry. "And for anyone who says that the spells in this book are out of our league... well, I was no great shakes in anything my second and third years... until Professor Lupin began teaching me the patronus charm. And that's something you all are going to learn to do. Dementers are one of the favorite weapons of Voldemort..." He was interrupted by still more gasps.

Viktor stood, and his intimidating glare silenced the crowd. "It is just a name," he grumbled.

Harry nodded. "People, it's not even his real name. His real name was Tom Marvolo Riddle. He apparantly was playing around with the letters in his name and found something goofy enough to hide his true identity." He pulled out his wand, and wrote 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in the air. "See what I mean?" And as the phantom Riddle had three years prior in the Chamber of Secrets, he caused the letters to rearrange themselves to read 'I am lord Voldemort'

Waiting for the murmurs to die, Harry continued. "It's a made-up word. And he didn't even research it very well. Did you know that in French, it means something like 'Runs away from Death' ? That's right. He's afraid. Afraid of dying. He's so afraid, he's made it his very name."

Once again, the crowd began muttering. "Please. If I can teach you anything today, or this week at all, it'll be to say his name fearlessly. Dumbledore once told me that fear of a name only increases the fear of a thing. And fear is one of Voldemort's weapons. Let's take one weapon, at least, away from him!"

This brought applause. "Yeah, disarm the ol' tosser!" cried Justin.

"Exactly!" said Harry. "Every time you say his name strong and loud and unafraid, you chip away at the foundation of his power. And without that, he's nothing! Now, repeat after me - VOLDEMORT!"

Harry had expected a much better response than he actually got. Only a handful of students, mostly muggleborns, called out the name. Others, like Neville or Padma, shook slightly, and barely even got the first syllable or two through their lips.

The twins got a better idea. "Voldemort, Moldy Shorts, got a bad case of the moles and warts!" they began chanting. Luna, Alicia, and Angelina quickly joined them, and their voices grew stronger. As they got louder, more and more voices joined them, until the entire room thundered with the asinine chant.

"Now that's more like it," muttered Harry to Ron and Ginny, who stood on either side of him on the daias.

zzzzzzz

Professor Snape rushed down the seventh floor corridor on his way to the owlery. He had an important missive to send to his lawyer concerning shifting some of his considerable stocks and bonds, and he needed to get the information sent straight away or he could lose tens of thousands of Galleons. He was halfway down the corridor, when he heard it. It wa uncertain at first, and he began to wonder if he was hearing things.

However, as he strode down the hall, it became clearer.When he could finally make out what was being said on the other side of what he was certain was the outside wall of the castle, he nearly dropped his letter in shock.

Composing himself, he continued on his way to the owlery. But he would then be headed directly to the headmaster's office, to report that the very walls of Hogwarts had begun making fun of the Dark Lord.

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: I just had TOO much fun picturing thirty-odd studens calling out the Twins' chant there at the end, didn't you, heheh?

Okay, we know a bit more about Draco's stance - no real help from him, looks like, but he probably won't stand in their way. We also see the origin of WWW, and the first recruiting drive of the OGL... as well as what may become their battle cry, heheheh. Next up? Dumbledore takes Harry on a trip down Memory Lane...

And as for my reviewers:

Mystical Witch: Why, thank you. To be honest, I never had him planned for it, he just demanded to take the role after I realized he couldn't keep on at grunnings. The person he's described as being in Canon when he's at work just doesn't sound like the kind of person THIS Vernon would be comfortable with.

Cobra-100: I assume because of the "Pass the eggs, please" bit?

lily 101: Yes, it is one of the opening battles of the war. And I've read that one, too, heheh.

alwaysariyana: Thank you

TricaLee: Malfoy isn't quite as changed as all that. He's grown up a bit more in a hurry, though, and changed his focus from blood to breeding. Vernon is, however, a better man (sic)

malexandria: Will do

Taeniaea: Thank you, and here it is!

snuffles007: Well, it's about the same length as my average chapter. At least it's not like some fics that have single page chapters. They just frustrate me sometimes.

ibfritz: Like I told Taeniaea, thank you and here it is!

mika: Oh, the Slytherins won't be quite that likeable. but the ones you mentioned will be a case of "Better the devil you know", if you understand my meaning. They'll still be mean and spite-filled (except maybe for Snape), and just wait until the problems in Slytherin begin to spill over into Hogwarts as a whole...Oh, and I didn't make up the AD/MM pairing, just took it as a rumor for Madame Hooch to try and spread. :D

PlatinumRoseLady: Ayu, he is. Ayup, he is. Ayup, it is. And awww, shucks. puts the Gingerbread Hogwarts on the table next to a diorama of... what else? The Three Magi...

Harry Foureyes: Right now, the struggle is still going on in Slytherin. Until the dust clears, no DE Kidlets are going to be writing anything home to Mommy and Daddy about it - it's a House affair, after all. Draco also hasn't completely lost his prejudice - and he has not let go of any grudges, either.

ReadingFreak2005: I've been asked via E-mail to add in more fluff, so it's not just you, heheh. And thanks!

Johnny C: Sorry, Chapter 22 was actually about average for one of my chapters. Don't worry, meatier chapters are coming soon.

Shinigami: Yes, he did. He didn't have an extra year to rebuild his forces the way he did in Canon, so he is going to try to seize the initiative as soon as he can. As for Narcissa, and Draco with the mark, well, time has a funny way of changing with the least little thing...

Nikki: Thank you - and I did! 


	24. Chapter 24: Visions and Silence

Disclaimer: No, I don't know an author more deserving of her fame and wealth than Ms Rowling. Although I wouldn't scoff at having a bit of it, myself...

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Visions and Silence

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Harry and Ginny cuddled next to each other on the loveseat near the fire in the otherwise empty Gryffindor Common Room. It was a Friday evening, and both had decided to worry about homework later on that weekend, and just spend time together. Harry would neverbe able to explain it, bt he just felt comfortable around Ginny, moreso than even around Ron and Hermione. They did their fair share of snogging, true, but they also snuggled a lot, just holding each other and drinking in their presence. He knew almost everything there was to knowabout her - her favorite color (bottle green), favorite day of the year (the first day of Spring), and even her favorite Muggle music groupp (Blue Oyster Cult, surprisingly enough). But there was still one thing he did not know, and he decided it was time to broach the subject.

"Umm... Gin?' he asked, nuzzling her hair as she leaned into him.

"Mmm?"

"Do you... do you remember those visions of me you used to get? The ones that were almost but not quite right?"

She lifted her head, eyes wide. "How... how did you know about them?" she asked.

He hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell her anyway. "Tom told me... in the Chamber."

Ginny shivered, and shrank into herself a bit. "Oh."

Mentally kicking himself, he pulled her close. "It's okay, Gin. The diary is long gone, and Riddle's shade with it."

"I know in my mind," she whispered, "but sometimes my heart forgets." She buried her face in his chest for several long moments, and her breathing slowed, and grew more even. Finally, she looked up. "What about... what about the visions?"

"Do you, um, do you remember when you stopped having them?"

A pensive look crossed her face. "Umm, I think the last one was on the day you came to the Burrow before my first year. I , well, oh Merlin you'll laugh."

"No I won't, I promise."

"I... I snuck into Ron's room and watched you sleep. And... and that night was my last vision."

"What was it?" he asked.

She blushed furiously. "Well, it was... um... are you sure you want to know?"

Grinning, he squeezed her gently. "Sure."

"It was you and me, old as Dumbledore, married, and surrounded by dozens and dozens of great-grandkids."

Now it was Harry's turn to blush, but he quickly regained his composure. "Oh. Well, since some of your visions can't come true, I guess it'll be up to us and, um, our kids, err, to make that one come true."

"Harry! You're only fifteen, and I'm fourteen!" she protested.

"Can you think of anyone else you'd rather grow old with?" he asked.

She stared at him, mouth open. Then she closed her mouth, and poked him in the chest. "Since I was four, Harry James Potter, I've been having dreams about this not quite you at night, and daydreams about the real you during the day. And while the not quite you may have had a horrible life, he was still you in every way that counts. Your courage, your honor, your... well, I guess you'd call it your 'saving people thing'."

"My 'saving people thing'?"

She nodded emphatically, and leaned over, placing her head and shoulders on his lap. As he idly began playing with her hair, she continued. "It's part of what makes you, well, you. Why you saved my life three years ago, why you were able to save Snape and Hermione two years ago, and why you did what you did during the Second Task. So many wonderful things have come out of your 'saving people thing'. I think its part of why I love you."

This stunned him. At first, her frank depiction of his motivations during those events set him off-kilter a bit, and then... 'Hang on,' he thought, 'did she just say what I think she did?'

Harry's finger stopped its idle twirling of Ginny's hair, which caught her attention. She glanced up, and noticed his expression. She wondered for a moment, then briefly panicked. 'Oh, no, I didn't say it aloud, did I?' she wondered. Mortified, she started to roll out of his lap.

His free hand stopped her, and he lifted her back into his lap. Quidditch may not do much for muscles, being an endurance game, but he somehow had become quite wiry during his teen years. "Did... did you mean that?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Ginny froze, and nearly panicked. Finally, she croaked out, "Y-yes."

His arms pulled her closer, and he buried his face in her hair. "I... I love you, to," he admitted.

She turned her head to face him. It was one thing to be snogging and cuddling with him, another to vaguely discuss plans that were at least half a decade in the future, and something completely and altogether different to hear those specific words come out of his mouth.

Harry turned to her as well, and found his face less than an inch from hers. "And I think I have for quite some time," he admitted. And then closed the gap.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Harry and Ginny lost all contact with the outside world. They simply held each other, staring into each others' eyes and exchanging the occasional tender, heartfelt kiss, no matter what else went on. Not even when the twins and Ron stopped by and started razzing them did they even show the slightest clue that they were aware of anything but each other. In the end, it required two seventh year boys to drag Harry from the loveseat and upstairs to his own room for bed. Ginny, herself, waited for five minutes in the Common Room after he was so removed, then almost literally floated upstairs to her dorm without ever touching a single step.

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It wasn't until two days later, that Sunday evening at Dinner, that Harry even remembered the start of the conversation that had led to their mutual revelations. With a bite of potatoes halfway to his mouth, he paused, and nudged Ginny slightly. "D'you... d'you think we should ask Grampa Albus about your visions?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Maybe he can explain why they were both right and wrong. And how I got them in the first place."

Hermione happened to hear a bit of that exchange, as she was sitting across from Harry. She leaned over and asked in a hushed voice, "Did you say visions?"

Harry glanced up at Dumbledore, then back to Hermione. "We'll explain later. Okay?"

The bushy haired witch frowned slightly, but nodded. Beside her, Ron's eyes were closed as he savored the last bits of his own potatoes, and thus missed the entire exchange.

Soon enough, the meal was over, and the young couple rushed to intercept the headmaster before he left the Great Hall. "Gra... err, Professor Dumbledore, may we speak to you for a minute? In private?" asked Harry.

The old sorcerer smiled broadly. "Of course, my boy. You know my door is always open to you." He ushered them through the side door. "Come along, we'll be there in a jiffy."

Ginny looked up. "Are we using the second floor entrance, or the seventh floor entrance?"

Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore replied, "Actually, I felt like having the entrance on the fourth floor today."

As they approached the gargoyle, it sprang to life and jumped out of their way without a single password. Neither student reacted, they assumed it was part of the perks of being headmaster. They rode the staircase up to a heavy wooden door, which likewise opened before they actually reached it.

A muted squawk met their ears, and Harry rushed over to the gold stand where Fawkes lay. His feathers were dull and limp, and he seemed to barely have enough strength to lift his head in greetings. "Aww, Fawkes, it's okay, don't get up. I know how you get around Burning Days." He stroked the feathers back ino place, and the normally beautiful bird fondly rested his head against the gentle hand.

Ginny, however, had never seen the phoenix so close to a Burning Day. "Headmaster, what's wrong?" Tears welled up in her eyes with worry, as she remembered the amazing sight that had carried the youngsters from the Chamber of Secrets some years ago.

Dumbledore rested his hand on her shoulder. "Itis the burden of age, my dear, much as I bear it. However, he is both lucky and unlucky. He is unlucky because he ages from infancy to infirmity in the space of a mere handful of months. Lucky because he is truly immortal - when he dies, he bursts into flames, and is reborn in his own ashes, memory and wisdom intact. From the look of him, I expect him to burst into flames within the next week."

Harry nodded, and gently lifted the unprotesting phoenix, and put him into his lap when he sat down. Ginny looked alarmed. "But harry, what if he bursts into flames while he's in your lap?"

The Boy Who Lived smiled. "Fawkes wouldn't do that. If he felt he was close enough to Burning for that to happen, he wouldn't let me do this." As he was speaking, he was caressing the bird, and adjusting himself to make his skinny lap more comfortable with him.

"Now," said Albus, "while I am certain Fawkes is loving the attention and concern, there was something specific you wished to discuss with me?"

Quickly, Harry and Ginny explained about her visions of the not-quite-Harry, and how these images were accurate in some respects, but wildly wrong in others. "So, we were wondering, since it's been years since she had any, is there any way to find out why she had them, or what exactly they were?" finished Harry.

"Is it..." began Ginny. "Is it like a Soul Bond?"

This brought a light laugh. "No, my dear, that is not a sign of a Soul Bond. They are not as rare as people beleive, you know," said the wizened wizard.

"They're not?" asked harry.

"No, my boy. However, only the most dramatic and blatant are usually referred to by the term. You see," continued Dumbledore, "any form of love is a bond betwen souls."

"But in my mum's books," started Ginny, "it's like a pulse of magic, and they can read each others thoughts, and such."

The Headmaster chuckled. "Miss Weasley, let me ask you something. Have you heard of the Department of Mysteries?"

She nodded. "I think Dad had to go down there once, to meet with someone. He said something about Tonks being with him, and tripping over something and smashing an entire rack of prophesy recordings?"

This caused the headmaster to wince slightly. "Well, this is true, she did," he admitted. "However, none were irreplaceable save one, and that one is safer destroyed than in the Department. In any event, in the Department of Mysteries is a sealed chamber, filled with the most powerful magic known. And it is a form of magic that can change men's souls, and the lack of it can destroy them. Even muggles acknowledge its eternal power. Do you know what that is?"

They both shook their heads. A form of magic even muggles acknowledged? Surely they would have heard of such a thing.

He smiled, and pointed out the phoenix in Harry's lap, where both children were stroking him. "Look at Fawkes. Does he not look better and healthier than when we entered a few minutes ago?" And indeed, his feathers were neater, and he was more upright, with eyes far more alert.

"You... you're right," admitted Harry. "But that's because we've been stroking his feathers into place, and he loves the attention."

"Actually, my boy, it is not neccessarily the attention he enjoys. It is the affection he enjoys."

A light seemed to turn on behind Ginny's eyes. "The power... is love?"

"Precisely. Yes, on rare ocurrences, two individuals have fallen into such a deep and abiding love on sight that the very air became charged with the infinite positive possibilities. Even Muggles will say something to the effect of 'sparks flew'." Dumbledore reached down, and began lightly scratching a particularly sensitive spot beside Fawkes' beak. "But that does not mean that another couple, who grew to love each other over many years, does not love as strongly or as deeply. To claim that would be to do them a great disservice."

"Like... like my Aunt and uncle?" asked Harry. "Or Mr and Mrs Weasley?"

"Yes, my dear boy." The old mage walked around his desk, and sat down in his chair. "You may remember Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel?" The children nodded, so he continued. "They were one of the great love stories of over six hundred years ago. When they met, there were no sparks, nothing. In fact, Perenelle and Nicholas loathed each other on sight. But as time passed, they eventually found their dislike had changed, and they grew close. As of the day they recently passed into the next world, they had been married for six hundred and twenty seven years. Was that true love?"

Ginny's eyes grew misty, picturing a love that abided that long. "Without a doubt," she breathed.

"And I tell you they were bound by love, a true Soul Bond. As are your parents, Miss Weasley, your Aunt and Uncle, Harry, and as were your parents." He looked at both of them. "And, as I beleive, are the two of you."

"But the talking to each other in their minds thing? Is that real?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore countered this with a different question. "Harry, what would your friends Mr Weasley, Ron that is, and Miss Granger say at this point in the conversation?"

He grinned. "Ron would be a bit put out that you said Ginny and I have a soul bond, while Hermione would start talking about looking up soul bonds in the library."

"Ahah! So you know their thoughts, then?"

"Err... no. I just know them. Thats probably what they'd do."

"Even so. Your bond of brotherly affection for Mr Weasley and Miss Granger is also a bond of love, and therefore a soul bond." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "There are many such kinds. Such as the bond between a tired old man, and the young boy so full of life that calls him Gramps."

This brought a blush to Harry's face, and ginny fought the urge to kiss the blush away. "Aww, that's sweet!" she said.

"Actually, these are sweet. Sherbert lemon?" asked the old man with a wry grin. "Now, back to your original question. You say the last vision you had of him was on the night you first got a good, solid look at him without hiding behind Molly?"

"I wouldn't put it that way," protested Ginny.

"I would" said Harry with a chuckle. "Remember, until the morning of the Quidditch game, about the only thing I had ever heard you say was something like 'SQUEAK!'"

"Harry!" she fussed, and cuffed him on the shoulder.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I beleive that is because somehow, something changed. Fate itself was altered in some respect, and that alteration hinged on Harry. Or, more accurately, his adoptive family."

"You mean something changed the Dursleys? Something stronger than Fate?"

"Precisely," said the headmaster. "Your godfather and Remus had occasion to meet Vernon and Petunia before their wedding, and found both quite disagreeable. I overheard more than one session complaining about them by Lily to James. Yet, at the wedding, something changed. For some reason, Vernon decided to put his prejudices aside, and offer a tenative hand in friendship."

"I... I never knew," confessed Harry.

"It is not something Vernon or Petunia would wish to discuss. They both felt great shame at how they had treated the magical elements of their family, and are both profoundly glad they made amends long before that fateful Halloween night." Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Weasley, I believe the visions you have had are of what would have happened had Vernon not made that decision, and sank instead into the quagmire of prejudice and scorn. It is a swamp that traps wizard and muggle alike."

"But... why was I having the visions? And why did they stop when I met Harry?"

Stroking his luxuriant beard, the old man simply slowly shook his head from side to side. "I do not know. Perhaps Fate sought to keep at least a fractionof her original intended outcome alie, if only as these visions. And perhaps she showed them to you, as the one person who could see the similarities instead of the differences. Whatever the truth of the matter, we shall not know."

Fawkes let out a low, mournful note, and craned his head up at Harry. "It's almost time?" asked the young wizard, and the phoenix nodded. Harry Gently scooped him up, and softly set him on the perch. "I'll see you in a few days, then," he said, then impulsively kissed the bird on the top of the beak. This, for some reason, cased Fawkes to coo, almost like a pigeon.

"He is most definitely fond of you, my boy," said Dumbledore. "Now, both of you, off to the Tower.It is drawing late. And Harry, don't forget, we have another... special lesson tomorrow night."

"I won't forget!"

Ginny waved goodbye to Fawkes. "Thank you, Headmaster!" she said.

"Now, now," chided the old wizard witheyes twinkling. "If it is just you, Harry, and I, and no school rules have been broken... call me Grampa."

zzzzzzz

Serverus Snape looked over his class. Fifth year Gryffindor and Slytherin student had just finished filing in, and had taken their seats. He looked at every face, resisting the urge to perform legilmancy on some of them, and cleared his throat. "As I have said, I am forced to admit that most of your prior education in this class has been... slightly above par. We are therefore going to move on to a slightly more advanced curriculum. We shall begin interspersing the standard lesson plan for fifth year with excercises in non-verbal spells. Can anyone tell me the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

Hermione Granger, of course raisd her hand, as did about three others. "Parkinson," he called out, who had not had her hand up. "name one."

"Umm...it's faster than saying it aloud?"

"Correct, but only once you have mastered performing it non-verbally. Ten points to Slytherin. Mr Longbottom."

Neville had changed over the previous years, thanks to coaching from Ron and harry, and study planning help from Hermione. "An enemy won't know what spell you're casting until he sees the beam from your wand, and won't know whether to shield or duck."

Snape's eyebrow twitched, as he was reminded more and more of Frank Longbottom, who had been a year ahead of him. "Correct. Five points to Gryffindor." While he was no longer downright vicious to Gryffindor, neither was he yet entirely fair. "Partner up, The spell you will attempt to perform nonverbally today will be Protego, the shielding charm we learned last week. One will attack, using any of the third year jinxes or below, while the other shall attempt to defend." He then gave them the basics of performing a spell nonverbally, and set them to work.

Soon, the room was filled with cries of "Rictusempra!", "Petrificus Totalis", and other similar spells. Unfortunately, none of them had gotten the hang of casting a spell without shouting the incantation, so the most commonly heard spell was in fact "Finite Incantatem". Snape swooped around the classroom, his trained duellist's senses alerting him when a spell missed its mark in time to avoid it. He turned and glared at the student, Dean Thomas, and continued watching.

"Mister Weasley, you are casting a spell, not laying an egg. Don't force it to happen, will it to happen. Miss Greengrass, you are supposed to be jinxing your own partner, not Mister Goyle. And Granger, switch with your partner, I do beleive Miss Brown has turned enough odd colors for one day."

Halfway through class, he passed through once again. "Potter, this is to be a nonverbal spell, not a whispered spell," he said, right as a faint shield came into being around Harry. "Step up to the front of the class, please."

Gulping, the student took his place on the daias near Snape's desk as the rest of the crowd fell silent to watch. He held out his wand, and readied himself. "Okay, sir."

Snape shook his head. "While I will relish the chance to inflict a curse upon you momentarily, we are to demonstrate how to PROPERLY cast a nonverbal spell. Therefore, cast a normal, verbalized spell upon me, and I shall shield myself."

The class gasped, and Harry looked like Christmas had come early. He may not hate Snape, but the man wasn't one of his favorite people, either. "Expelliarmus!" he cried, suddenly whipping his wand forward.

Right as the beam of light reached the teacher, though, a light blue dome appeared, and it deflected harmlessly into the ceiling. "Excellent force," noted Snape, "but you took too long on the incant. If you MUST say it aloud, say it swifter. Now, I beleive, it is my turn."

Nodding, Harry took a defensive stance, with his wand in position to trace the movements for Protego. Without warning, Snape cried "Immobolus!"

Unfortunately, Harry still had not mastered nonverbal spellcasting. However, he did manage to will up a screen. To his dismay, it did not deflect the curse, but rather altered it somehow.

"Potter... only you could turn an incoming Immobolus into a curse that erased your mouth." Harry tried to protest, but Snape waved his muffled mumblings away. "Weasley, escort Potter to the hospital wing. The rest of you, back to work!"

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End of Chapter

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A/N: This one was for those that requested some fluff, and it also gives a possible answer to Ginny's visions earlier. Not much in the way of plot development, more of a character chapter.

Also, heheh, I decided to givea possible solution for why the entrance to Dumbledore's office is onthe second floor in one book, and the seventh floor in another. Make sense?

Now, my reviewers:

bandgsecurtiyaw:  
Thank you!

veronik:  
Heh, yeah. When I wrote it, I had a mental image of Draco suddenly stopping in mid-speech, fantasizing about Hermione in bondage gear cracking a whip at him.

Harry Foureyes:  
Considering that Dumbledore knows the OGL was meeting in the ROR that night, at the time Snape passed down the corridor, I think it's very likely that he DID know what Snape really heard. :D And yes, Draco will always be a git. He may not be EEEE-vil, but when deliniating tagonists, he's definitely an AN and not a PRO. :D

Cobra-100:  
Ph34r the little old ladies with cattle prods!

ibfritz:  
Once again, ask and ye shall receive!

lily 101:  
I've seen "Moldywarts" and "Moldyshorts" in countless places by now. It's just the easiest mockery to make of his name. :D

Darklight:  
Draco kinda has his own plate more than full trying to win the Battle of Slytherin, I don't think he has time to make his own Order. :D

Frequency Queen:  
Heh, like I said, I've seen "Moldyshorts" and "Moldywarts" in various other fics.

PlatinumRoseLady:  
CONGRATULATIONS! You were my 200'th review, didja know that:D And I'm former active duty US Marine Corps. And while laughing in the face of a Drill Instructor was DEFINITELY a Bad Thing, it helped immensely to laugh behind his back.

alwaysariyana:  
He probably appreciated it more than he let on, heheh.

mika:  
Heh, Ginny's comment originally spawned from a typo ("Dqrk Lord"), that I re-read, and tweaked a bit. And part of the theme of HP as a whole seems to be the triumph of courage and laughter over fear - a point brought especially home in book 3 with the boggart and dementors, and at the end of book 4 when harry gave the twins his winnings.

Shinigami:  
Draco will likely not be a bitter old man like Snape - for one, Snape was a half-blood in Slytherin, and shows evidence of very few friendships - most of his fellow DE's seem to either distrust him, or look down on him. Narcissa malfoy might be an exception. Draco, on the other hand, is the Young Prince, and has both allies and friends throughout the house. He'll likely grow up snarky, but with a good bit more joy in his life than Snape.

Snuffles007 and Lila Mae:  
Why, thank you! And here it is!

Maxennce:  
Hey, no problem. Things just got jumped ahead by the switching of roles between Sirius and Snape in Third year, so the timeline is now completely and irrevocably changed. As for Harry and the deah of his mentor... what shall be, shall be. 


	25. Chapter 25: Christmas Presence

Disclaimer: I didn't want to do this to Harry, but the story made me.

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Christmas Presence

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"Oh, come on, you haven't played Father Christmas in three years, Hagrid. Please?"

Rubeus Hagrid looked down on the slender woman, doing his best not to cave in. "Petunia, I dun' think we really need me t' play Father Christmas, now. They're all teenagers, and a mite too old, don'tcha think?"

"Hogwash!" stated the muggle. Petunia Dursley was well known for her intense Christmas spirit, and she did her best to include everyone in it. "Who says I want a Father Christmas for the kids? I like to enjoy the full holiday experience, you know! Besides, I think Dobby and Winky would get a kick out of being your 'little helpers'."

In the end, the only thing Hagrid could do was agree to pull the oversized suit out of mothballs.

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The Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform Nine and Three Quarters right on time, and all of the students who chose to go home for the Christmas Hols poured out, racing to join their families. Ron looked at his twin brothers as he passed them, saying, "They're at it again." Then he sighed, and blushed, as he kissed Hermione briefly. "I'll... I'll owl you, and see you when the hols are over, okay?"

"Of course, Ronald," she answered, and kissed him back - directly on the lips, sending his blush into overdrive. She grinned, and sashayed her hips as she headed to her own family. "See you in January!" she called over her shoulder.

"PUT ME DOWN!" called out a slightly younger female voice, shaking Ron out of his stupor. "Put me down, or I swear I'll bat-bogey you like you've never been bat-bogeyed before!"

"Now, now, Ickle Gin-gin," cackled Fred as he jogged past Ron with Ginny over his shoulder. "What would dear old Mum say if she saw the manner in which you said goodbye to Harrikins, eh?"

"Indeed, my good man," chuckled George, who was likewise carryng a confused Harry over his shoulder. "Would give her a good fright, I'd say."

"You wouldn't dare!" shrieked Ginny.

"Au contraire, mon... err, whatever the french for Sister is," contradicted George,

"We would indeed... unless..." continued Fred as he set Ginny down on the platform.

"Unless you realized it was in your best interest not to?" challenged their baby sister with a saccharine voice.

"Err..."

"She's right, you know," said the otherwise uncomplaining Harry as he was set down nearly twenty feet away. "She knows where you sleep, both at home and Hogwarts."

"Oh, Pshaw," started Fred. "What would ou dear, sweet sister..."

George, on the other hand, turned a little white. "Umm, Fred, might wanna check yourself, there."

Ginny had her wand out, and pointed somewhere OTHER than Fred's Face. "I don't think we want to find out what would happen if I aimed a bat-bogey hex THERE, do we?"

"Right, no telling. Mum's the word to Mum indeed!" hastily corrected her brother. "And come to think of it, that WOULD be being bat-bogeyed like I've never been bat-bogeyed before."

Ron rolled his eyes. "If you are all done playing around, Mum's gonna go spare if we're not out there as soon as possible."

They gathered their various belongings, and headed out to meet their respective families, with the twins deliberately inserting themselves between Ginny and Harry. "Ron's been hanging around Hermione too much, eh?" muttered George to Harry.

"Depends on whether her behaviour is transferred by saliva," he answered.

"EWWW! Harry, that was a horrible mental image! I'm so proud of you!"

Several minutes later, and one last desparate, lingering kiss between Harry and Ginny, and the families were on their way back to their respetive homes. Vernon and Petunia were grinning like fiends, and Dudley kept sneaking glances at his cousin and snickering.

"What?" Harry finally demanded of Dudley.

"Remember Christmas hols your first year?"

"Yeah? What about them?"

Dudley jerked a thumb in the direction the Weasleys had left. "Looks like I was right She IS your girlfriend, and I bet Hermione is Ron's by now."

Harry was about to protest, then decided a different tactic was required. "And what about you? Smeltings is an all-boys school, if I remember right."

Shrugging, his cousin let out a secret smile. "Maybe. But we do have new neighbors... and Smeltings let out last week for the hols."

zzzzzzz

It was midnight, Christmas Eve, and Harry and Dudley met up in the hallway between their rooms like they had for the past few years. "Torch?" asked Harry.

Dudley held up a rather large Maglight, the type that carries several D-cell batteries. "Check!"

"Tape for emergency repairs?"

"Check!"

"Spare pre-tied bows?"

"Check!"

"Invisibility cloak? Check!" Harry answered himself.

"Best use you ever put it to, I bet," snickered Dudley softly.

"Right. Now, come on, let's go!" Harry threw the cloak over himself and his cousin, and they crept silently down the stairs.

The first year they had tried this, they discovered that if the maglight was set on low, placed on an end table, and pointed at the ceiling, it gave enough light to let them see, but not enough to wake anybody up. So as they passed, a slightly chubby hand reached out, and set up their light, and neither one noticed the cloak slipped slightly, exposing their feet.

BANG! The sudden noise startled both boys. "Harry Potter and Duddles Doozley is not supposed to be here!" insisted a squeaky, high-pitched voice.

It was Dobby and Winky, in their new Holiday Uniforms. Dobby was wearing a green tunic trimmed in white fake fur, a pointed hat with a bell on the end, candy-striped hose, and shoes that curled up at the toes. Winky, meanwhile, was wearing a red dress with white fur trim, a white broad belt, and tiny little shoes similar to Dobby's but with the hint of high heels. "It is being almost Christmas," continued Winky, "and you's is supposed to be being in bed!" She frowned at the boys, and tapped her foot impatiently.

Both boys froze, as the elves had been in their normal uniforms earlier and they had not seen these new outfits. Right now, in the dim light of the torch, all they could see was, for all practical purposes, two of Santa's Elves guarding a pile of presents around the Christmas Tree.

Harry couldn't resist. He let out a snicker.

Dudley, on the other hand, let go full blast, laughing so hard tears reached his eyes. "Perfect!" he declared. "You two are ruddy PERFECT!"

"Shhh, Duddles Doozley!" insisted Dobby, fighting a grin of pride. "You is going to be waking the house!"

A flick of a switch, and light filled the room. Both boys froze, and turned. The invisibility cloak slipped further away, and they turned to see Uncle Vernon, his face stern. "More like you have already woken the house. Boys, you were told last year not to do this."

Dudley shrugged. "But it's a tradition, now," he insisted.

Harry nodded. "Gotta follow tradition," he noted.

Vernon smiled briefly. "Precisely. Which is why this year, I started a new tradition. Your grampa Albus set up a ward on this room. Anyone enters, invisibility cloak or not, and I am woken up."

Their faces fell. "But Uncle Vernon," began Harry.

"Don't Uncle Vernon me. Up to your rooms, the both of you. And I don't want to see you out of there until seven o'clock, at the earliest, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," they both groaned. Dudley picked up and turned off the torch, and Harry gathered up the invisibility cloak.

It was going to be a loooong seven hours, both boys thought.

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At last, seven o'clock came, and both boys bolted out of their rooms. Dudley made it to the stairs first, as his room was closer, but Harry passed him by sliding down the bannister. They heard Petunia in the kitchen working on breakfast, and likely the start of Christmas Feast, as well, and so ran to the living room to ambush their store of presents.

Which, of course, were gone.

"Mum!" wailed Dudley. "Where'd they go?"

"Now, now, you'll just have to wait and open them with the rest of us, okay?" she placated them.

"Just great," muttered Dudley. "Prolly 'cause we got caught last night."

"Maybe," said Harry, "but maybe it's part of something they've been planning. I mean, the new uniforms for Dobby and Winky were definitely not a whim."

Sighing, Dudley sat down at the kitchen table, and started eating breakfast. Harry ate his own, and watched, and realized Dudley actually ate less than Ron. Where the lanky redhead put it, he had no idea.

Soon enough, the guests started arriving. The Weasleys, of course, along with Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore. To their surprise, Hagrid showed up on Sirius' motorcycle (on the ground, not flying), dressed as Santa with a house elf on each shoulder, playing Father Christmas. All too soon, they forgot about being in trouble earlier, and just enjoyed themselves.

zzzzzzz

"Going somewhere, outcast?" sneered a raspy voice.

Draco turned to see who it was, wand out, and saw Nott. "Does that even matter to you?" he asked, and just in case, began a spell to record the events in his wand.

Crabbe by his side, Nott swaggered closer. "It all depends. Going to send an owl, were you?"

Instantly, the young Malfoy's mind went into threat assessment mode. Crabbe was big, and quite cruel, but was slow, stupid, and had barely more magic than a squib. Nott, however, was lean and rangy, with nearly the mystic potential Malfoy himself had. He decided immediately that if something happened, a quick stunner should take care of Crabbe, but he would need to do so on the move, and then hammer Nott to keep him from awakening the oaf until he either got a clear shot, or interference arrived. "Again, that is none of your concern."

Nott leaned close to Malfoy, his own wand out. "I know, Blood traitor. I know what you saw. And what you didn't have the stomach for."

"How? Never mind. Leave me, you misanthropic fool."

Crabe sat there trying to figure out what Draco had just called Nott, which gave the blonde Slytherin his opportunity. Knowing the comment had momentarily disabled him as quickly as any spell, he immediatly sub-vocalized "Petrificus Totalis!" At Point black range, and not expecting it, Nott's arms and legs snapped together, and he pitched forward stiff as a board.

This caught Crabbe's attention, and seemingly forgetting about his wand, he roared and charged his former boss. Draco simply sidestepped, and shot a quick stunner that felled him like a log.

Looking at his former comrades, he got an idea. He called for one of Hogwart's House Elves, and sent a message to Goyle and Zabini. Yes, this would most certainly work to his advantage.

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Sleep rarely came to Serverus Snape willingly, especially since the incident with the dementors a little over a year and a half ago. Yet, somehow, it did this night.

Dreams and nightmares passed their usual way through his psyche, but soon faded as he found himself on a tower that was at once strange and familiar. The castle was not hogwarts, he was certain, but he was also certain he would remember it if he concentrated hard enough.

"A year has been lost," said a voice. The voice did not surprise him, but its message did.

"A year? Why?" Snape asked.

"Destiny reaches to the breaking point. In three months, you will choose."

"What shall I choose?"

"You know what you will choose."

And indeed, he did know. And he also know which of his two options he must choose, for he had no other choice.

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"Wormtail, is our little present ready?" demanded a hissing voice devoid of all human warmth. Hideous pale hands, larger than they should be with long, spindly fingers gently stroked the head of a massive cobra.

A short, scrawny man with rodent like features, long scraggly hair, and fraying, patched robes bowed deeply. "It is, My Lord. Lucius awaits your command."

"Excellent. Then let the games begin." He laughed, a high pitched cackle that froze the blood, and it echoed through the dank, musty chamber.

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"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The scream tore through Number Four Privet Drive, waking up all of the residents and houseguests. Ron, Fred, and George, who were in Harry's room, were the first to react.

Harry was screaming at the top of his lungs, and writhing in apparant agony. His scar was bleeding profusely, and the rest of his body was caked in a cold sweat.

"Oh Merlin! Fred, go get Dumbledore quickly! George, get Ginny!" demanded Ron.

"Why Ginny?" asked George.

"JUST GET HER!" he yelled.

However, neither twin even made it out of the room, as a small redheaded blur raced in, shortly followed by nearly the entire adult compliment. "Harry!" cried Ginny, throwing herself across him. "Harry, wake up, it's okay, it's okay!"

Dumbledore bent over, and gently picked her up off of the spasming boy. "Sirius, Bill, I need you to put up every ward you can around this room at once, especially those dealing with the mind!" he barked. Turning back to harry, he began muttering under his breath, and stroking the bleeding scar.

As Bill and Sirius immediately began casting the wards, Harry visibly settled down, but did not wake up. "My god," gasped Vernon. "What happened?"

Dumbledore sighed, as the boy in his charge drifted into what seemed like a dreamless sleep. "I am not certain... but I beleive Voldemort has found a way to use the connection between Harry and himself to inflict some form of harm on the boy, even at a distance. His reactions were those of a victim of the Cruciatus - one who suffered it for an extended period, from multiple tormentors."

"Merlin! Should we take him to St Mungos?" asked Arthur Weasley.

"No. Right now, this room is the only place safe enough for him, with the possible exception of Hogwarts, and that not until we add to its mental wards." He glanced up. "Remus, while they are occupied adding to the wards, please floo to the hospital wing and retreive Poppy."

Ginny had managed to get to the other side of Harry's bed by this time, and sat on the edge. She took his hand in hers, and began crying. Eventually, she curled up beside him, and cried herself to sleep.

Nobody wanted to move her, not even when Poppy arrived.

A/N: Now, see what happens when half a year's worth of dreams and visions from Voldemort come slamming down at once, heheh? Snape seems to have made his choice... but what will it be? And we still don't know what Remus' new job is, do we? Sorry for the short chapter, but otherwise it would either end in the middle of a scene, or would be three times as long...

My reviewers:

Harry94Ginny:  
That's odd. Wonder why it did that...

lily101:  
Heh, I had it planned. Thing is, Ginny seemed to have forgotten that Harry told her he knew about her visions when he returned from the Third Task, but we'll chalk that up to her distress.

snuffles 007: Heh, yeah, I just wrote how I would treat Fawkes if I was Harry.

Mandalorian Jedi:  
Probably not, actually.

Shannon Snape:  
I dunno... you might be angry with me pretty soon. I've been saving up on Harry Torture, y'see...

Darklight:  
D has no desire to win the battle at this time. Neither side really espouses his own personal beleifs, but then again neithr side entirely negates them, either.

Shinigami:  
In a way, but more of as a"This could have happened, but Fate got kicked in the patootie" kinda way. And in my fic, I picture Frank Longbottom as being a forceful, sharp-witted man, almost the opposite in some ways to Canon Neville.

FrequencyQueen:  
Heheh. You KNOW Canon Snape would have BEGGED for just such a happening.

PlatinumRoseLady:  
Yeah... but next time we see Fawkes, he'll be feeling a lot better. Too bad harry won't... and hey, sometimes you just gotta take things literally, eh?

Maxennce:  
Yes, he does. For now. MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! 


	26. Chapter 26: Green Eyes

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my name. The plotline has been changed to protect the, err, well, nothing.

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Green Eyes

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The antechamber to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing was more crowded than it ever had been during winter holidays. Four hours ago, Bill and Sirius put the finishing touches on wards meant to prevent any form of communication besudes owl or flue, which hopefully would help Harry resist whatever Voldemort had done to him. The Weasleys, the Dursleys, Remus, Sirius, and Dumbledore were currently awaiting word from Madame pomfrey as to his condition.

The door opened. Ginny looked up immediately from her spot on a bench next to her mother, and for half a second thought it might be harry. It wasn't, however, it was the nurse.

"He's in a normal sleep," said Madame Pomfrey. "And besides the sudden loss of skin on his scar, there's not a single thing wrong with him physically. He shows many of the neurological symptoms of long-term exposure to the Cruciatus, however, despite not showing any spell burns."

"Is he at the stage..." began Dumbledore. Ginny thought she had never seen him look so old. His eyes had lost their sparkle, and he was hunched over, standing alone in the corner of the room.

"Thankfully, no," responded the mediwitch. "He is at stage three. He does not show any signs of stage four."

Giny wondered what the stages of Cruciatus exposure were, but did not want to know until her Harry was back with her safe and sound.

Suddenly, the outer door opened, and Professor Snape charged in, carrying a potions bag. "I came as soon as I could. What stage?"

"Three," said Dumbledore. "And I am sorry for disturbing you so..."

"Do not apologize, Albus," interrupted Snape. "If anyone understands the severity of the situation, it is I."

A voice behind Madame Pomfrey shocked them all. "Dead... they're all dead..."

"HARRY!" Indeed, somehow haing crawled out of his bed andmade it to the door, Harry Potter stood leaning against the doorframe. His glasses were not on his face, and his eyes were out of focus and wandering slightly.

Sirius and Vernon immediately took action, sweeping him up and rushing back to his bed. Everyone followed, and Madame Pomfrey decided against even thinking about telling any of them to leave. "Shh, Harry, you need to rest," urged Sirius.

"He had them. Fifteen of them. All with green eyes, and he put round glasses on them all..." wheezed Harry. He didn't seem to look at anyone, and his voice was both hoarse and somewhat sing-song.

Snape started digging through his bag. "You're certain stage three, Poppy?"

"Absolutely."

"Then he is stronger than I have given him credit for," he muttered, and withdrew a specific potion. "Potter... Potter! You must lay back, and drink this at once!" he demnded.

"Fifteen of them... I'm fifteen years old. He killed them all... slowly... pain... blood... gore... madness..." Harry lay limply in the bed now, but did not seem to be aware that anyone was there with him.

"What in the world could do this to him?" demanded a horrified Petunia Dursley. Beside her, Dudley stared at his cousin worriedly, his fists clenching and opening again at the thought of whoever had done this.

Dumbledore sighed. "One of the most evil of all incantations, my dear. And I will apologize to Harry later for doing this. Morpheus Fortes!"

A powder blue ray sped from Dumbledore's wand, and reached harry with what semed like a featherlight kiss... and he fell back against his bed, sound asleep. "Serverus, you may proceed."

As Snape began to administer the potion to the sleeping boy, Madame Pomfrey ushered the rest of them out of the hospital wing. "He will need quiet and rest. He should be fine in a few days now that we have the potions we need."

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The following morning found the Weasleys, Dursleys, and their friends eating breakfast in the Great Hall. None of them had left Hogwarts, and none of them wanted to while Harry was still in the condition he was in. Those students who had elected to remain at the school during the holidays knew something was up, but nobody seemed to know exactly what.

The door of the great Hall opened midway through the meal, to let in Hagrid. His eyes were red, and his face blotchy. It was no secret he loved Harry, and he had probably spent all night crying himself sick with worry. Behind him, however, were several unexpected shapes.

Hermione, Viktor Krum, Parvaiti, Cedric, Cho, Fleur, and Gabrielle all rushed to the Gryffindor table. Gabrielle raced immediately for Ginny, and dove into her arms crying, sparking fresh tears from the redhead. Fleur likewise ran to Bill, while Hermione embraced Ron. The rest walked among those gathered, offering hugs or a hand on the shoulder where appropriate.

It was at this time that a Slytherin second year leaned over to Malfoy, and discreetly passed him a slip of parchment. He read it, and turned even paler than normal, and nodded to Goyle. The two got up from their seats, and walked slowly out of the Great Hall.

"Wonder where they're going," muttered Fred darkly.

"They don't seem to be in too much of a hurry, do they?" added George.

Ron narrowed his eyes, and at a glance assessed the situation in Slytherin House. He realized that if he thought of his rival house as just another strtegy game, he could actually get a feel for what's going on. "Looks like Nott made a power play last night, and it failed big time. But the note didn't have anything to do with that."

"How do you know?" asked Hermione.

"The munchkin's been in Malfoy's camp since nearly day one. Never in the same seat, but even the tie or two he sat with Nott's camp, he's been at the end, next to the gap." He gesturd vaguely with his head towards the boy. "Probably tried to use him as a spy on Nott, but Nott got wise to him. Maybe he did get some info this time."

Molly looked at her youngest son. "Since when can my baby boy interpret the inner-workings of Slytherin House so easily?"

Ron shrugged. "It's all down to chess, Mum. I saw a book on chess that explained it was about politics, not war, and it all kinda makes sense, now."

"I'll ask you to explain that later," she said with a slight frown, "when we're in better spirits.

Krum had gotten up from the table, and headed towards the Head Table. He walked around behind it, and stopped behind Snape, and whispered something. "And what's that about?" wondered Bill.

Parvati grimaced slightly. "At Durmstrang, they teach Dark Arts, not DADA. He's offering to see what he can do to help Harry."

Sirius grunted. "Snape knew more curses coming into first year than most seventh years, and rumor has it he invented more than a few himself. There's not much Krum is likely going to know that Snape doesn't already."

However, the two had gotten into a moderately lively discussion, with Krum nodding his head a few times, then they ended the conversation with a handshake. The Bulgarian strode back to the gryffindor table, and took a seat next to Parvati. "It appears you will be seeing more of me, my love," he rumbled.

She looked at him. "Wonderful! But why?"

His mouth tightened into a thin line. "During the... study meetings... I will be instructing Harry in Occlumancy."

Remus looked a mite perplexed. "But why can't Serverus or Albus do it?"

"Simple," said Krum. "In the case of Albus, there is a chance that, if the connection is as strong as feared, Voldemort might reach through their link, then through Albus's own legilmancy probe, and attack the Headmaster's mind directly. And Snape could do little more for Harry than simply repetedly batter away and tell him to clear his mind. He is a natural Occlumens, not a learned one."

A house elf suddenly appared at the head table, and requested the headmaster's attention. The old wizard listened to what the elf had to say, then nodded, and stood up. "You will forgive me for leaving so soon into the meal, but I have been informed of a matter I must deal with in my office. Please, students and guests of Hogwarts, enjoy the rest of your meal." He then turned in a swirl of robes, and strode out the staff exit.

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Just as the house elf had told him, Dumbledore found Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle waiting outside the gargoyle, which was on the third floor today. "Follow me, gentlemen. Whoppers!" The gargoyle sprang aside, and they rode the staircase up to the old man's office.

As they entered, Dumbledore gestured, bringing two comfortable chairs up near his desk, and took his seat behind his desk. "What is it that brings you to me today?"

Draco closed his eyes, and felt his bile rising at the thought of what he had to say. "As you may know... there is a faction in Slytherin House that maintains close ties to followers of the Dark Lord," he began.

"I am aware of this, yes," noted Dumbledore.

"At breakfast, a... source of information revealed to me an act the Dark Lord performed last night." He took a deep breath, and steeled himself. "It was a message, of sorts, to Harry Potter."

This caught the headmaster's attention, and he fixed the young pureblood with a gaze. "And what was this act?" he inquired, eyes hard as flint.

Goyle looked terrified, but Malfoy knew he had to be resolute. "He kidnapped fifteen muggle children, sir. One of each age from one to fifteen. And they all had green eyes.

"He took them one by one, and burned a lightning bolt onto his forehead, then put round-rimmed glasses on them, sir. Just like Potters." He paused, the knowledge of what came next reminding him of the horrors he had seen that summer in Snape's penseive.

"Go on," prodded Dumbledore.

"He... he killed them all, sir. Slowly, and painfully." He swallowed hard. "Some were bled through countless cuts, some disemboweled and left to die in agony, some were slowly crushed, and at least one... a nine year old girl... was v-vivisected. And all of them had the cruciatus inflicted on them. Repeatedly. By several of his servants."

"Good lord..." The old wizard leaned back in his chair, stunned. He understood now exactly what Harry had been raving about hours earlier. "Fifteen... and he witnessed it all... and felt it all..."

Draco started. Had he heard what he thought he heard? "P-professor, are you saying Potter actually witnessed it? And felt it?"

As if reminded of the boys' presence, he immediately pointed his wand at his door. "Colloportus!" It slammed shut, and they could hear it locking. "You were not meant to hear that, Draco. I must now offer you a choice. Either you must swear that what I have accidentally revealed must never leave this office, or I must perform a memory charm upon you. Which shall it be?"

"Hogwash!" snorted Draco. "You haven't done anything 'by accident' in your life! You're doing this to force me to take sides in this war, aren't you?"

"Draco, I have not slept since yesterday morning, and a young man who could be no dearer to me if he was my own flesh and blood lies suffering in the hospital wing. What I said I DID. NOT. MEAN. TO. SAY."His voice was not loud, but it carried more conviction than a thunderous roar. He then let out a breath he did not know he was holding. "I am sorry for the outburst. But you MUST choose, Mr Malfoy. Your oath, or obliviation."

The commotion woke Fawkes, who had been sleeping on his perch. He was still young yet, only having been a month or so since his last Burning Day, but he was in fact in his adult stage. Seeing the three in the office, and the state of his beloved master, the phoenix began to sing.

As Draco chose obliviation, and Goyle with him, Albus secretly was astounded. Phoenix song brought hope and courage to those of good hearts, and fear to those of dark, but it brought no reaction at all in Draco Malfoy.

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White. Everything was white. And fuzzy, too.

Fuzzy... fuzzyfather? Godfather? Unclefather? Grampafather? Wait, that was Grandfather. Grand piano. Pianoforte. Fort Houston. Houston, we have a problem. Problem child. Children... oh, Merlin, they were only children!

Harry bolted upright in the bed,and reached for his glasses. For a moment, he thought it had been just a normal nightmare, and he would be sitting in his bed on Privet Drive. Ron, Fred, and George would be laying on cots near his bed.

But it wasn't, he wasn't, and they weren't. Instead, he was in the Hospital Wing, and the only people beside him were Ginny and... Gabrielle? They were asleep in a comfortable looking chair next to his bed, with the young French girl curled up inside Ginny's protective arms. Though the sight warmed his heart, it also chilled it. A nine year old girl... and it wasn't a dream. A nine year old girl with green eyes stared out at him from the abyss of his vision, and he could not bear to look at his friends while she stared at him, accusingly.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall near the entryway, and saw that it was pointing to "Waaay too early for this". He chuckled, and lowered himself back to his pillow. He knew he would see the little girl again in his dream, and he had to. He had to know what she wanted, after all.

zzzzzzz

He was on a crude matress, and it was dark. It was also cramped, and he felt spiderwebs all around him. He blindly groped for his wand, and muttered "Lumos"

The beam from his wand showed two forms in... wherever he was, with him. Both were nine years old, and both had green eyes. With a start, he realized the little boy, with the messy black hair and the glasses too big for his face, was him. And in that instant, he WAS the boy, and he was there alone with the girl.

"This could have been where you grew up, you know," said the girl. Her voice was matter-of-fact, and not accusing as he had feared.

"In... in a cell?"

"No. It is a cupboard. The one under the stairs of Number Four Privet Drive."

He boggled. "But Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never do that! Not to anyone?"

"They would have to you, if they hadn't grown to be more than what they were."

"I don't beleive you."

"What about your love's visions?" asked the girl. "And what your headmaster told you about them?"

"That... that's someone who wan't me."

"But it could have been."

He glanced around. As he moved the light from his wand, spiders and roaches scattered. "Why are we here?"

"You must grow beyond what you are."

"What am I?"

"Iron."

"What must I grow to become?"

"Steel."

He was taken aback. "How do you know about my lo... about Ginny? My family? And Grampa Albus? And you were a muggle, on top of that..."

"The dead know many things," she simply said.

"What... what do you want?" he asked.

Fifteen faces appeared, all with green eyes. "Justice," they hissed together, and everything fell dark.

zzzzzzz

It had been three days, and Harry had shown only moderate improvement. He was still under the effects of the powerful post-Cruciatus potion, and they weren't completely sure when he would awake.

Ginny woke as the sun's rays broke through the window beside harry's bed, and realized her legs were numb, and her neck was sore. But since gabrielle hadn't woken up yet, she decided to simply stay sitting there, holding her until she did.

A mild cough got her attention, and she saw Fleur and Bill walking in the entryway. "She is definitely attached to you, Gin-gin," smiled Bill.

The redhead grinned back. "Why wouldn't she be? We both love Harry. Different ways, of course, but hey, love is love."

Fleur stepped beside the chair, and sat down on the armrest, then leaned over and kissed Gabrielle on the forehead. "Little one, eet ees time to wake up," she crooned.

The tiny little girl grumbled something, and tried to burrow deeper into Ginny's arms. Realizing she wasn't in a bed, she snapped her eyes open and looked around, realization flooding her. "Harry... has he?"

"Non, mon petit cher," said Bill in nearly flawless French. "He's still sleeping."

She grudgingly clambered out of Ginny's lap, and hugged her sister around the waist. "He will wake up today," she muttered. "The mediwitch said three days."

"Has it been... three days?" rasped a voice they had not heard since Christmas.

"HARRY!" they nearly all shouted at once. Fleur had to hold tightly onto her sister to keep her from flinging herself at the recovering boy, but Bill failed to grab Ginny in time. Fortunately, she simply grabbed his hand, kissing it and holding it to her cheek.

"We've been so worried," she cried, though this time they were tears of joy and releif.

"I'll... I'll go alert Poppy," said Bill. "Coming, Fleur? Gabrielle?"

The three left Ginny and Harry alone, and did not return with the mediwitch for some time.

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A/N: Well, we now know WHAT Voldie did as a "Christmas Present" to Harry, eh? And we also know still more about Draco's true nature. Hmm, interesting... 


	27. Chapter 27: Noble Intentions

Disclaimer: It is time to let credit flow to where credit is due - JKR. As if we didn't love her already.

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Noble Intentions

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"MISTER POTTER, get back in that bed immediately!" howled Poppy Pomfrey, mediwitch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"But Madame Pomfrey, it's been days since I woke up. Can't I at least go down and eat with everyone else?" complained Harry. If truth be told, he still wasn't certain if he could make it all the way down to the great Hall under his own power, but he was damn sure going to try.

"Not right now you're not," she insisted. "You're barely able to stand, let alone walk! You have at least two more days before you can leave that bed."

Harry groaned. That would leave him only one day to spend with Ginny anywhere OTHER than the Hospital Wing before all the other students arrived on the Hogwarts' Express. He crawled back onto the bed, and flopped back onto the pillow.

"And no pouting, young man," she warned. "You are a Fifth Year, so no acting like a First year!"

"Sounds like something Aunt Petunia might say," he muttered.

With the wards around Hogwarts having been reinforced, most of the Dursley / Potter household, as well as the Weasleys, had been allowed to stay there with Harry. He spent most of his days playing Risk (Ron's latest favorite) with Ron and Hermione, trading stories with Bill and Charlie, and just snuggling with Ginny. Sometimes Fleur and Gabrielle would stop by, and he and Ginny would tease the little French half-veela girl mercilessly. It seems they had found out she had rapidly developed a crush on one of the First years, one Euan Abercrombie, who happened to be staying in the castle over the holidays.

The last day Harry was to be confined to his bed, Ginny showed up earlier than normal, right as he was stretching and putting on his glasses after waking up. "Morning, luv," she said, smiling wickedly.

"Oh, no," he said. "Why does that look frighten me?"

"It's not you who should be frightened," said the redheaded witch. "It's Fred and George."

He rolled his eyes. "What did they do now?"

She scowled, and flopped down to sit next to him. "They let slip to Euan about Gabrielle's crush. The poor girl is sitting in the Divination tower right now, and won't even let Trelawny in to get her things."

"What gits," he muttered. "Love 'em to death, but they just don't think about others, sometimes."

"Too right. But, they'll get theirs," she noted mysteriously, as the evil grin returns. "Just wait until the feast day after tomorrow."

"Do I even want to know?" he asked.

"Oh, you do, you do." She then pinched his cheek like a maiden aunt. "But ickle Harrikins has to stay in bed, so he can't come out to play." She then kissed where she pinched lightly. "Besides, I think it'll be much more fun to be a spectator and be surprised. Consider it a belated Christmas gift."

"Okay," he said with a grin, "I'll do that."

As Harry leaned close to give her a 'proper' kiss, they were interrupted by a loud POP! as one of the Hogwarts' house elves appeared beside Harry's bed. It looked between the two and grinned, then looked at him. "Noble Master Harry Potter, sir. I is bring your breakfast, I is!"

"Noble?" squeaked Ginny as she tried to resist a giggle.

"Oh, yes," nodded the elf, ears flapping like mad. "Noble Master Harry Potter is noble by blood and deed. The Potters are of the Saxe-Coburg line, and Noble Master Harry Potter has honored the name of Potter on many occasions."

"Saxe-Coburg?" said Harry, slightly stunned. He was much better at Muggle history than Wizarding history. He knew that Victoria, last of the Hanover monarchs, had married Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, and George V had issued a proclamation that the Royal Family's surname from then on would be Windsor. "Just... how closely related am I?"

The elf thought for a moment. "Yous' great-great-great-great grandfather was second cousin to Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. Yous shares ancestors with the Monarchy nine generations back from yous."

"Does... does that mean there is a noble title or something?"

"I is not knowing, Noble Master Harry Potter. I has been living in Hogwarts all my life I has." The elf shrugged. "Another elf who is living with a family might know."

Ginny looked at Harry, slightly scared. "Harry... that's more closely related to the Royal Family than any other Wizarding family I've ever heard of!"

He nodded, still unable to process what he just heard. "But... why didn't anybody ever tell me?" he asked.

The elf took one hand from under the serving tray, ad snapped those fingers. The tray levitated up, and settled down over his legs, carrying the wonderful smells of breakfast with it. "I is not knowing, sir, but it is not widely known. I is knowing of it only because I is son of a former Potter elf."

This stopped them cold yet again. "Is... is he till here?" asked Harry.

The elf sadly shook his head. "I is sorry, Noble Master Harry Potter, but it was a she. And died she did, of a broken heart, when heard she did that her master, Noble Master James Potter, and his wife, had died."

This at once saddened Harry, and eased his heart a bit. He was sad that another link to his parents was gone, but proud that they had elicited such love from a being that most wizards considered little more than a high-priced vacuum cleaner. "What... what is your name?"

"I is Gob, Noble Master Harry Potter. And I is sorry, but I must return to the kitchens." Waiting for Harry, who nodded, he vanished with a loud POP!

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That evening found the Dursleys, Sirius, and Remus dining in the Hospital wing. Some of the beds had been moved aside, and a large table placed next to Harry's bed. He was still required to stay in bed and eat from a serving tray, but Ginny came down to eat with them, and sat next to him.

Sirius was in rare form, telling old Hogwarts stories. Most of them had already heard them except for Ginny, who egged him on and was eager to hear of their various pranks. "So with that done," he said, "we rushed back to the Gryffindor Common room. Next morning, classes were actually canceled so that they could chase down the Restricted Section books from wherever they had flown to."

Something about Sirius' manner told Ginny he wasn't quite done. "Well?" she prodded.

"Well, Moony, here, wasn't told about one of the spells James had put on some of the books. Being a Prefect, he was tasked to help chase down some of the books..."

"Padfoot, come on, they don't need to know," groaned Remus.

"...and one of 'em let fly with a pigeon special right on his Prefect's badge!" crowed Sirius. Remus dropped his face into his hands, and the rest of the table roared with laughter.

As the laughter died down, Harry turned to Sirius. "Um... Uncle Sirius... do you know much about Dad's side of the family?" he asked.

The dark haired man leaned back in his chair. "Hmm, not really. I mean, the Potter family has been purebloods for a long time, and rumor has it some of their few squibs married muggle nobility. But then, they say that about all of the old families."

"Oh," said Harry. "I... I need to... Um, Can you ask Grampa Albus to come down when he's finished with dinner? And can you all stay here, please? I may have learned something today that might be important."

"Sure, my boy," said Uncle Vernon. The conversation drifted off to other topics, through dessert and the end of the meal.

Shortly after, Headmaster Dumbledore came striding through the Hospital Wing doors. "My, my, my," he said with a smile, "Poppy must be getting soft in her dotage to allow so many visitors for just one boy."

"I heard that, Professor!" came the voice from her office.

"Certainly can't say that about her hearing," chuckled Sirius.

"Indeed." Dumbledore then sat down on Harry's bed, opposite Ginny, and not /quite/ so close. "Now, Harry, what was it you wanted?"

Harry looked at Ginny, and nodded. "Grampa Albus... how much do you know about the Potter family history? About my family tree and stuff?"

The old wizard stroked his beard. "To be honest, not as much as I would like. Besides James and your Grandparents, I never met any of that family, and never really studied them. They are an old wizarding family, however, and I think if we go back about four or five hundred years, we might find that you and I are related."

Harry smiled. "That's wonderful! But... it's not why I'm asking."

"Oh?" This was actually a mild surprise for Dumbledore. "If it's about Miss Weasley, I'm rather certain you would have to go back at LEAST as far to find any relations. Possibly longer."

Ginny giggled, and Harry shook his head. "That's not it, either, Headmaster. Um, according to one of the house elves here, son of my family's old elf, the Potters are prtfthsxcbrgln..."

Remus grinned. "Can you repeat that? Not even I understood it."

"I said..." Harry took a deep breath, and Ginny squeezed his hand. "I said that the Potters are part of the Saxe-Coburg line. According to Gob, we have common ancestors to the Royals about nine generations back."

Thunderstruck would be the word to apply to most of those present at the table. Even Dumbledore's twinkling paused in shock for a moment, before returning with a vengeance. "Now, now now, that IS interesting," he muttered to himself. "Harry, would you like to discover any possible proof of this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," he said. "It's not really important, so don't go moving Heaven and Earth to find out, but it would be rather cool to know. Oh... and don't tell Ron. We kinda hafta... warm him up to the idea, first."

"Certainly, my boy," said Albus and Uncle Vernon at the same time. They looked at each other abruptly, and laughed.

zzzzzzz

Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, and Harry all waited at Platform 9 3/4. Their parents had decided to let them all ride the Hogwarts Express back to school with their friends, and so had given them a portkey to Kings Cross. The single biggest advantage they had was that they had no trunks, only their school robes in small carry-alls, so it would be easy to find seats and room.

A bushy-haired frame rushed up to them, stopping less than a few feet from Ron. They watched as Hermione took a deep breath, and seemingly ran through the flirting advice from Tonks in her mind. She then sauntered up to Ron, and started trailing a finger on his chest. "Hello, Ronald," she purred.

"Ah, ah, ah, can't get me like that. I'm onto your game," he protested. "I'm wise to you, you hear?"

She stepped closer, ignoring the muted giggles from Ginny and the snorts and snickers from the others. "But Ronald... are you SURE you're 'wise to me'?" She lightly rested her chest on his, and lifted her finger up until it trailed the corner of his jaw.

"Haba buhu ma huru huh..." was all he could manage to say.

Hermione giggled and stepped back. "Okay, enough of that," she said, lightly slapping him on the arm. "Help me get my trunk on the train and let's go find a compartment."

Fred and George said goodbye as Ron lugged Hermione's over-stuffed trunk onto the train, and went to go find Lee Jordan. "Now, lovebirds," they said as a parting shot, "don't do anything we would!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny made their way down the train, looking for an open compartment. About halfway down, they found something better - a largish compartment, with Neville, Luna, Cho, Parvati, and Padma in it. "Hiya, guys!" said Neville.

After making their greetings, they all sat down, and began discussing the holidays. The Gryffindor Four studiously avoided any mention of Harry's vision, at least until they could go somewhere more assured of privacy, and Ginny and harry did not mention their encounter... directly.

At one point in the ride, Harry looked at Ron. "Got a question for you," he said.

"What? And you sure you wanna ask me, Hermione's the brains of this outfit," he said as he bit the had off a chocolate frog.

"And you're the stomach," noted the bushy-haired witch.

"Hey!"

"Guys, not now," pleaded Harry. "Ron, since many Purebloods tend to be so hung up on family lineage... is it possible some of them might be related to the Muggle nobility? Or, to use an example, could the Noble and most Ancient house of Weasley - " Ginny snorted here " - be related to the Royal Family?"

"Err... I dunno?" confessed Ron. "Not likely, though. We're probably more closely related to that Ginger Spice bird we saw on the telly last week, if you ask me, she's got red hair at least."

"Not likely," said Hermione, scowling. "She dyes it."

"Oh. So, why you asking?" Ron smirked at him. "You find out something, and think you're going to be moving up in station by hooking up with my baby sister?"

Knowing the seed had been planted, Harry responded with a smile, turning to face his girlfriend. "Of course I am. There can be no greater honor than to be a Weasley. Or at least otherwise part of their family."

Parvati cooed. "Aww, that is soo sweet!" She giggled mercilessly, and leaned over to Padma. "It's too bad they're so obvious, we can't even gossip among ourselves about them. Except, of course, telling everyone how they're so perfect together."

Her sister waggled her finger. "Don't talk to me about 'perfect together', I've seen you and Viktor." She then looked around the cabin. "Then there's you and Cedric, Cho, and of course Ron and Hermione and Luna and Neville. I'm feeling like an old maid around all of you!" she declared.

"We're only fifteen," pointed out Parvati. "Besides, didn't you have your eye on Michael Corner?"

"I did... until the day after Christmas. After what happened, I think I'll wait a while." She fidgeted. "Give him some time to get over what happened."

"What happened?" asked Ginny, wide-eyed.

"His sister was kidnapped on Christmas evening," she said. "She wasn't magical, so they had to use muggle means to try and find her."

"Oh, my! Is there any word?"

Padma nodded. "They found her four days ago. She was murdered, and they won't say how. It's such a shame, she was such a beautiful girl with lovely green eyes. And she was only nine years old, too."

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A/N:  
Once again, I know it's a little short, but I thought that line of Padma's was just the PERFECT place to end, let you dwell on that one, eh? 


	28. Chapter 28: Confession and Confrontation

Disclaimer: Only JKR can tell us what REALLY happens, so to speak, 'cuz she created them.

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Confession and Confrontation

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After Padma Patil's news, the Gryffindor Four remained relatively quiet for several hours, especially Harry. Eventually, Luna looked up from her issue of the Quibbler (right side up, as this issue had no article on runes that supposedly needed to be read upside down), and looked directly at the Boy Who Lived. "Can you see them, Harry?" she asked.

He was surprised a bit. "See who?" he asked, then cringed, expecting something completely out of left field from the odd yet steadfast young lady.

"The thestrals. The ones that pull the carriages from the station to the school," she said.

"No way!" exclaimed Ron. "They're pulled by Thestrals? I thought they were just charmed or something."

Cho shook her head. "She's right, it's thestrals. My father saw my grandmother die back in the first war while he was still here, and he saw them."

Harry considered. "No, not really. I think I was too young when my parents died for it to count."

"Shame," said Luna. "They're beautiful. Hagrid takes very good care of them."

The topic began to disturb Harry somewhat. Would seeing death through that vision Voldemort had sent count for the purposes of seeing the creatures? For that matter, why was Dumbledore so certain that Voldemort wouldn't try to rip his mind apart like he did the night after Christmas, while they were on the platform or on the train? Surely they couldn't be as well warded as the school?

"What... what do they look like?" asked Ginny. She was a little disturbed, too, but for a different reason. Who had Luna seen die?

The blonde Ravenclaw looked her directly in the eye. "They're horse-sized, but look like a cross between dragons and horses. Mostly horses. Their fur is black and glossy, and even though they're awfully thin, they look quite healthy."

"Are they... friendly?" queried Hermione.

"Very," confirmed Luna. "They're smarter than horses or dragons, and they like children. Hagrid lets me help feed the herd on the weekeds, and they love apples and being scratched on the nose."

Padma sighed. "It's such a shame most people can't see them, then. If they're so smart and friendly, they must be very lonely animals."

Ron raised an eyebrow as all of the girls began commiserating about the poor, lonely thestrals. "What is it with girls and horses, or horse-like creatures, anyway?" he muttered to Harry.

"I don't know," said the messy-haired young man, "but I think Neville's pondering being a horse animagus, based on the way he's looking at Luna." This brought a snicker out of both boys.

"What's so funny over there, Tweedledee and Tweedledope?" asked Cho with a smirk.

"Not gonna tell you until you say who's Tweedledee and who's Tweedledope," retorted Harry, his earlier dark mood fading.

zzzzzzz

Finally, the train pulled into the station, and the group donned their school robes. "Oh, forgot to tell you," said Harry. "I got word that our... FRIENDS... will be in the castle for the whole term for some kind of job for Grampa Albus. Found out a couple days ago."

Cho and Parvati immediately brightened up, while Neville lookd a little confused. "Which friends?" he asked.

Ron smiled. "Oh, only Fleur, Viktor, Cedric, and Gabrielle. Oh, and my brother Bill is going to be there, too, but he didn't say why."

"I know Viktor is going to be teaching me Occlumency. Probably the rest of the core OGL, too. Gabrielle is there because Fleur is, their parents are rather busy right now, and I don't know why Fleur, Cedric, and Bill are going to be there," said Harry.

Ginny smiled wickedly. "Oh, I know why Bill is going to be there."

"Why?" asked Luna.

"Because Fleur is," she replied triumphantly.

They gathered their things, and left the train. Harry walked with his arm around Ginny, and Ron did the same with Hermione, but Neville was slightly more nervous than they were, and only held Luna's hand.

As they approached the carriages, a shudder passed through Harry, and he pulled Ginny closer. She looked up at him with a sad, knowing expression, and he hoped nobody else noticed.

"You see them," said Luna, fortunately low enough so that only he and Ginny heard. "Who?" she asked simply.

"Michael Corner's sister. And fourteen others," he whispered. With one look at the sleek, black steeds pulling the carriages, he helped Ginny in, then clambered in himself, closed his eyes, and let a single tear drip down his cheek.

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Harry's bad mood continued all the way into the Great Hall, and only seemed to get deeper when he noticed Michael's devastated expression at the Ravenclaw table. Michael was part of the 'extended' OGL, but Harry really didn't know him well, other than the fact that he was in Fifth Year, as well.

Ginny seemed to decide enough was enough, and grabbed his chin, turning it to force him to look at her. "Harry James Potter, you need to stop moping about right now. We'll have Luna get Michael to the Room of Requirements tonight. You need to talk about it, get it off your chest. If you don't, you're just going to shrivel up and blow away."

Harry jerked his head out of her hand, with a hurt expression. "HOW, Gin? How the bloody hell can I tell him, 'Oh, by the way, I watched your sister die on Christmas Night as a present from Voldemort'?" he hissed.

"As gently and carefully as you can, luv," she said, and pulled him in for a sideways hug, laying her head on his shoulder. "Besides, we have about a minute and a half before you see something guaranteed to cheer you up," she added, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Huh?" he oh so intelligently asked. Then it hit him. "Oh, yeah!" He turned his head to look at the Weasley Twins. It was, of course, just coincidence that doing so meant he was also facing Ginny, who stole a tender kiss as he did.

"We could replace their beater's clubs with licorice," Fred was saying.

"Or fill their pads and guards with itching powder," added George.

Lee shook his head. "Nah, you did the licorice thing to Flint's wand back in second year, and the itching powder in first. Try something new."

Fred and George huddled for a moment, not noticing something was more than a bit odd at that moment. After a few minutes, they broke their huddle, grinning. "I know exactly what we could do!" they said at the same time. "Why is everyone laughing?" added Fred inquisitively, as the two immediately looked at the Slytherin table, expecting to see a prank on them.

Lee was rubbing his nose; when the change occurred, he had been drinking butterbeer, which had spewed up his nasal cavity as a laugh erupted and was quickly silenced. "Oh, no reason. Umm, what about making them look like male veelas in drag?"

Fred shook his head. "Nah, Draco looks like that all... the... time... Is there a draft in here?"

George glanced over, and nearly fell out of his chair. Before he started to laugh, he looked down at himself, and froze in horror. This caused Fred to look at George, then himself, and also freeze.

The Weasley Twins now had milk-white complexions, platinum blnde hair, and a heavy dose of makeup that would make a Parisian Courtesan look under done. Their clothing had turned into tube tops stuffed with tissue, leather miniskirts, and fishnet stockings with knee-high high-heeled boots. Of course, the colors were red and gold.

The entire Great Hall erupted in laughter, which snapped them out of their stupor. Never ones to take offense, they joined in whole heartedly as soon as the shock wore off. They began parading up and down the Great Hall like supermodels at a fashion show, striking poses and strutting for all they were worth. Even Harry joined in the laughter, the sheer absurdity of it all temporarily breaking through his downcast mood.

They also noticed the signs on each others' backs, and read them aloud to each other. On Fred's back, it said, "Play nice with the Ickle Firsties", and on the other it said "Privileged info stays privileged." They turned to Ginny, bowed in honor of her glorious prank, and shrugged in chagrin as they returned to their seats.

Dumbledore eventually silenced the students, eyes blazing with laughter. "Before I say anything more, I would like to thank Messers Weasley and Weasley for the wonderful floor show this evening. Ten points to Gryffindor for being such good sports.

"I would also like to note that this term we will be having a few assistant instructors in several of our classes. They will handle many of the more mundane chores for their respective courses, such as grading papers and recording grades. They will only fill in for the professors in class if it is absolutely needed."

He pointed to the end of the staff table, where Bill, Fleur, Cedric, Viktor, and Gabrielle sat. "Bill Weasley will be assisting Professor Flitwick with Charms, Fleur DelaCour will be assisting Professor McGonegal with Transfiguration, Cedric Diggory will be assisting Professor Slughorn with Potions, and finally Viktor Krum, currently on leave from the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team, will be assisting Professor Snape in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Most of the school remembered Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur from the previous year, and many easily made the connection between Bill and his younger siblings in Gryffindor, so the applause was more than just polite. The various members of the OGL, whether core or extended, cheered loudly. "But what about the kid?" yelled out a sixth year Hufflepuff.

"Ah, yes. Miss Gabrielle DelaCour will be directly assisting me with the most strenuous tasks of all - keeping up good relations between Hogwarts and Honeydukes!" he announced, eyes twinkling. Gabrielle blushed, but still stood and curtsied gracefully. Harry risked a glance at Euan Abercrombie, and noticed the boy blushed, and was staring down at his dinner.

"So that's why they're all here," noted Luna, who had joined them at the Gryffindor table. Cho would have been there, as well, but she had to sit with her house as she was a Prefect.

Harry glanced at Ron. "Wow, with Viktor, I think Defense will be even... what's wrong?"

Ron was hardly eating, for him anyway, which meant he was eating at the pace of an ordinary person. His eyes were focused on the table opposite theirs, and especially upon the two individuals in green and silver that represented the two sides of their fractured house.. "Slytherin. Malfoy has Nott in check, but the mate's not certain."

Harry glanced over, and saw that almost all of Slytherin had shifted over to Malfoy's side. Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and Crabbe were joined by only a bare handful, mostly older students, while the rest had sided, for the moment, with Malfoy and his lieutenants. Whatever had happened over the holidays, it had been significant.

"Looks pretty certain to me," noted Harry, turning back to Ron.

The redhead shook his head, and motioned for his friends to lean in closer. "Nott's got something planned. He has that scowl on his face, yeah, but every so often the corners of his mouth twitch. He's up to something, and whatever it is, it's big enough that he thinks he can get the rest of the house under his thumb again."

"Should we tell Draco?" asked Parvati.

Ron shook his head. "He knows. He has every right to have his usual triumphant smirk back, but he doesn't. He's holding his poker face, but Zabini is always glancing at Nott, then whispering to Malfoy. They know, so they're going to be as prepared as they ever will."

Harry looked at his friend with newfound respect. "How'd you get so good at reading Slytherin?" he asked.

Ron shrugged. "Politics is chess. The king is versatile, can do anything, but his power is limited by /noblesse oblige/ - one square at a time. The queen is just as versatile, and incredibly powerful, moving any distance in any direction, because she doesn't have the king's obligations. The knights can move in ways no other piece can, hopping over other pieces, but are limited to specific types of moves by their code of honor - or in the case of Crabbe and Goyle, their stupidity. The bishops are very powerful in one aspect, the rooks in the other, and the pawns just try to get through one square at a time. But if a pawn reaches the end, and his schemes pay off, he can be as powerful as any other piece."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "That... that was brilliant!" she declared.

He shrugged again. "Read it in a muggle book on chess a while back. And thinking of it that way, a lot of Slytherin's stuff makes sense."

"So who's who?" asked Neville.

"Obviously, Nott and Malfoy are the kings. They can't do a lot of what they're capable of because they're not just leaders of their factions, they're symbols of them. Their queens are Greengrass for Nott, and, surprisingly, Zabini for Malfoy."

"I didn't think Draco swung that way," chuckled Harry.

Grinning Ron shook his head. "Only symbolically. As close as Malfoy is to Parkinson and Goyle, Zabini is the one who carries out his plans. Anyway, Goyle and Crabbe are the Knights. They're capable of physical threat as opposed to mystical, going on the 'moves no other piece can do' thing, and their intellect limits exactly how that can be applied. Pansy is Draco's bishop, and Bullstrode is Nott's rook. The rest are pawns, though looks like that one third year is making plans to move across the board to be promoted in Malfoy's service.

"So who would be who for the OGL on a chessboard?" wondered Ginny. Soon, they were debating the merits of Ron versus Ginny versus Hermione for Queen, and they continued on until the feast was over.

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Shortly after reaching the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry grabbed the rest of the core OGL members that were there. "Room of Requirement," he said, and they understood.They only had an hour before curfew, but they didn't care, and left en masse.

They were met at the door as it apeared by Cho, Luna, and Michael Corner. Corner's face was haggard, and he only nodded in greeting. "Come... come on in, Michael," said Harry. "There's something you should know."

They walked inside, and Cho and Padma flanked Michael as they sat down. Harry did not take a seat, but instead started pacing between the soft, comfortable chairs the Room had provided for them. "Christmas night," he began, "something... horrible happened. More horrifying than anything else since we've been at Hogwarts."

Slowly, haltingly, Harry told the story of his horrific vision. He kept certain details a secret, but still had to stop several times to regain his composure. Ginny wanted to rach out to help him, but he would shrug off her hand, with a look that told her he needed to do this himself.

At last, he finished describing the vision, and the message from Voldemort. "I'm told I went into a coma at this. Took me three days under Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape to even wake up, and most of the rest of the time between then and today confined to a bed. But... but that's not the worst of it."

He described the dream he had while unconscious, something even Ginny and Ron had never heard before. Everyone was riveted on his story, and as he ended it, he looked Corner in the eyes. "Michael," he said, "she was nine years old. With blonde hair. And green eyes."

The Ravenclaw boy was in shock, staring at Harry. Padma, Cho, and Luna each embraced him to show their housemate some support, and Padma kept her hand on his arm as he worked his jaw slowly. Finally, he stood, shrugging them off, and approached Harry. Without warning, he hauled off, and decked him with a right hook that any pro boxer would be proud of.

The rest of the crew erupted into shouts, and bolted to their feet. "SILENCIO!" hollered Harry. "Sit down!" he barked, and was surprised when they immediately did as asked - except for Michael that is. Harry cancelled the silencing spell, and turned to face Michael again.

"You!" roared Corner. "YOU'RE the reason Michelle died! Without you, she'd still be alive!" He reared back, and slugged Harry in the stomach.

Bent in two by the force of the blow, Harry tried and barely succeeded at holding his dinner down. "You're right," he admitted.

"My mother is in St Mungo's with a nervous breakdown," shouted the Ravenclaw, "because she was the one who found her!" Another punch caught Harry on the side of the head, driving him to his knees.

Ron tried to get up to defend his friend, but Neville held him back with surprising strength. "He has to do this," whispered the heavier boy. "They both do."

Harry's eyes widened, then fell in despair again. "I... I didn't know," he forced out through an aching jaw.

"And all because Voldemort wanted to give you a 'Christmas Present'?" demanded the Ravenclaw. He raised his other fist, intent on delivering another punishing blow, when Harry simply collapsed onto the floor. Thinking he had knocked the Gryffindor unconscious, he drew closer, and was shocked to find him sobbing, tears flowing from his eyes.

"It's my fault," Harry was saying. "All of it... those children... all dead. My fault..." he was saying over, and over, and over.

WHACK! A small, open hand slammed into the side of Corner's face. The stinging slap seemed to shake him out of his rage, and he turned to see Ginny Weasley. "There's something he didn't say, you prat!" she snarled. "He felt every single casting of the Criciatus curse! Full effect! According to Madame Pomfrey, he was all the way in Stage Three!"

All of them except Ron and Hermione, who had known before, gasped in horror. Michael's eyes widened, and he took a step back, looking at the boy he had just brutally beaten. "I... I didn't know... Why didn't he say anything... I..." he stammered.

"Because he's like that," Hermione calmly said. "He didn't mention it for the same reason he just let you hit him, and why we couldn't have interfered."

This confused Michael. "But... he's alsready suffered enough! More than enough! I wouldn't have hit him if I'd known!" he protested.

"Maybe, maybe not," said Luna. "But you would have wanted to. And now you have, so you won't want to anymore."

The odd girl's proclaimation hit a nerve. He stumbled backwards, and fell into a chair, still staring at Harry silently. Ginny knelt in front of Harry, and was whispering soothing words to him, trying desperately to reassure him.

Ron looked at the boy who had just punched his best mate three times, expecting to want to hex his brains out. But as he looked at the forlorn, lost expression on the other boy, that urge seemed to flow out of him like water. "I... I think we all had better head back to our dorms. It's only about five minutes to curfew."

Ron bent over, and he, Neville, and Ginny helped Harry to his feet. The initial punch looked like it had hit him on the side of the head, and the final blow on the black, so it looked like there wouldn't be any visible injuries the next day. Nodding their goodbyes, they all dispersed back to their respective dorms to await the following day.

zzzzzzz

"CRUCIO!"

Lucius Malfoy writhed in agony under the spell from Voldemort. He cried out, knowing any attempt to hold back screams would only prolong the torment, and he decidedly wished to end it as soon as possible.

At last, the pain faded. He would never tell a soul, but the surcease of pain following the horrific curse had become almost like a drug to him. His breathing eased, and as endorphins flooded his system, he realized why Bellatrix so often begged the Dark Lord to inflict that horrid curse upon her prior to her capture and imprisonment. "This past Summer, you allowed your worthless son to turn away from our path, and failed to properly dispose of him. This past Autumn, you allowed a crucial prophesy to be destroyed by that clumsy halfblood Auror. You have no more chances, Lucius," sneered a high, cold voice.

"Of course not, My Lord. I shall not fail you again. If I do, then I deserve whatever you choose to do to me," said the platinum haired wizard.

"This is so," agreed Lord Voldemort. "The loss of your son from our potential ranks is causing a lot of trouble in Slytherin House. I understand their need to keep everything... under wraps... until it is all sorted out, but I must know what is going on. Wormtail!"

The small, slender man strode forwards to stand next to the supine Malfoy. Those Death Eaters that could backed away from him in horror as he passed, for in spirit he was at least as inhuman as his horrid master. The rat-faced man turned to gaze disdainfully at their cowrdice, and turned to look at his Lord. "What is your commnd, oh Master?"

"You will go to Hogwarts as a rat. Find out what is going on in Slytherin House." Voldemort paused. "Also, find out what the Potter brat thought of my... present. And check on the status of Snape's assignment. He is halfway through his alotted time, he doesn't have much left to go."

"Of course, my Lord." Wormtail bowed, his scraggly hair obscuring his face as it fell down in front, then returned to his shulders as he straightened. He stood, waiting.

"You are dismissed. All of you." Voldemort turned on one bare, pale foot, and strode back to his throne. "Malfoy! You remain, and clean up your mess. When it is cleaned to my satisfaction, then and only then may you leave."

zzzzzzz

Harry bolted upright in bed, sweating profusely and his scar burning. This had been nowhere near as bad as his vision over Christmas, and as he sat there, his scar pain faded rapidly. However, he wasn't certain if the pain he was in was from his beating at Michael Corner's hands, or as a result of recieving a vision from Voldemort. If it was from the Cruciatus, then the wards that had been added likely dimmed it down considerably.

Looking around, he saw it was still the middle of the night, and everyone else was still asleep. He had refused to go to the hospital wing after talking with Corner and the OGL, because then he would have had to explain why he was hurt, getting the Ravenclaw boy in trouble. He didn't want to do that, and didn't think he was too badly hurt, so he simply decided to tough it out. He'd had worse, much worse, at the hands of Piers Polkiss growing up, and even before the fateful beating when he was nine, which led to him discovering his magical heritage, he had always recovered in a day or two.

Tired, so very tired, Harry gently lowered his head back to his pillow, and went back to sleep.

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End of Chapter

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A/N: More visions, more pain, and more loss. What else is in store for the Boy Who Lived? And why haven't we found out what job Remus is doing for Dumbledore yet? Perhaps we will find out soon... 


	29. Chapter 29: Job

Disclaimer: Joy oh joy, JKR likes fanfics!

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Job

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A man walked through the austere offices, dressed in a nicely fitting suit and tie, carrying a briefcase. At first glance, the greying hair would make one assume he was nearing middle age, but his face was relatively unlined, and his eyes bright. He carried himself with dignity and self respect, earning appraising glances as he passed by office windows.

Eventually, he stopped at a door at the end of the hall, and knocked politely. He glanced at the window beside the door, and saw a young woman in austere clothing glance his way from behind her desk, and nod. Unconsciously reaching up to straighten his tie, he opened the door and walked in. "Hello, Martha. Is he ready for the briefing yet?"

The woman smiled. "Of course, Remus. I'll let him know you're here." She leaned over to a device on her desk covered with buttons and lights, and pressed on. "Yes, sir. The Liason is here."

"Send him in," responded the tinny voice from the device.

As she motioned towards the door, Remus J Lupin nodded his head and smiled at her. "Thank you, Martha."

Inside the main office sat a man that many in the Wizarding world underestimated, all because he was a muggle. Not a drop of magic at all. He was, as Vernon Dursley once described himself, 'all technology and the here and now'. However, for a man in the important position he was in, he needed to know what was going on in the Wizarding world, because as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, whatever occurred in the Wizarding world affected his world, as well.

He had never been satisfied with his previous liasons, all of whom had been chosen by the Ministry of Magic. When Professor Dumbledore, a man spoken quite highly of in private by all his predecessors he had spoken to, walked in his door, he was prepared to listen. In their brief encounter, the Prime Minister had gained a deep respect for the man, and accepted his offer to help him choose his own liason when the job came open.

Sure enough, when the previous liason informed him that he would be retiring the following July, he leapt at the chance to take Dumbledore up on his offer. The result was fought long and hard in the Ministry of Magic for some unknown reason, but he was adamant. He had met with Mr Lupin before, and found him one of the brightest minds and most rational individuals he had met from the Wizarding world, and would accept no other as his liason to them.

"Good to see you again, Remus," he said. "Are you feeling alright? I know... IT... was just a few days ago."

Remus smiled. The Prime Minister had discovered his 'furry little problem' some months ago, but also learned about both the Wolfsbane potion, and of Sirius Black's ability to take canine form, and help ease the transition. "I'm fine, sir. This information was just too important to let it wait."

"Is it about..." started the muggle.

"Yes. And about the children kidnapped the day before Christmas."

The Prime Minister shuddered. "Barbaric, absolutely barbaric. Why in Heaven's name would he do such a thing?"

"Heaven has nothing to do with anything Voldemort does, I'm afraid," sighed Remus. "He did it... as a sort of message to Harry Potter."

"The boy?" he asked. "The one who stopped him fourteen years ago?"

Nodding, Remus continued. "And again four years ago, and again three years ago, and was captured and present last year when he returned to power. It seems that the act of stopping him that first time created some sort of link between them... and Voldemort forced him to witness the entire abomination."

The muggle turned white. "Good Lord... he saw it all happen? Even... even what happened to the five year old and the nine year old?"

"Yes." Remus tried to control it, but his eyes twitched and his jaw quivered. "It sent him into a coma for three days, but he's doing fine, now."

"You were a friend of his father's right?" At the werewolf's nod, he continued. "If that boy is half as important as you and all my previous liasons have indicated, then I hope you take good care of him."

"I could do no less, sir," Remus said stridently. "On other matters, there has been an offer from the Ministry to purchase Edzell Castle from the Crown. It appears that there is a functioning potions lab about three centuries old beneath it, covered in muggle-repelling charms that are just beginning to fade, and without proper ownership of the site, the spells will not take. It will prevent... mishaps, so to speak..."

zzzzzzz

Harry walked down the halls, towards the Room of Requirement. It was time for the OGL meeting, and his latest Occlumancy lesson from Viktor. It was strenuous, but the Bulgarian had given him some good advice, and the titles of a few books to check out from the Restricted section of the library. Ginny, Hermione, and Ron walked beside him, and they were talking about the classes earlier that day.

"I swear, Professor Slughorn just adores you, Harry. You may not be the best in the class, but I don't think you could do any wrong in his eyes," said Ron.

Hermione frowned slightly. "I find it interesting that he didn't try to start his 'Slug Club' up again this year. I wonder why not?"

Harry glanced at a passing first year, who looked rather nervous to be walking alone. "Probably because of the war in Slytherin house. He was a Slytherin, himself, and since both Nott and Malfoy are rather important,he may feel that inviting both would be disaster, either one would be throwing his influence where it wasn't wanted, and neither would be insulting his entire house."

Ginny glanced up. "I thought Ron was the strategic genius around here."

"Idiot-savant, you mean," chuckled Harry.

"HEY!" shouted the red-headed wizard as he cuffed his friend on the shoulder.

They noticed that the door to the ROR had not yet appeared. "Good. As soon as the rest of the core group gets here, I can pass on what Dumbledore showed Ginny and me last night," said Harry.

Soon enough, the rest of the core members were gathered, with more than a half hour before the rest would show up. Harry ran through the memories that Dumbledore had shown him. "And the funny thing was," added Ginny, "Slughorn had modified his own memory. It was painfully obvious, but it was the... crux of the matter, if you'll forgive the pun."

Cedric stroked his chin. "Sounds like the memory may have been telling Riddle how to make it. Or maybe Riddle saying something that might let us know how many there are."

"Makes sense to me," said Harry.

Cho turned to Ron. "Any idea yet what Nott's planning in Slytherin?"

The redhead shook his head. "Nott's been quiet. No idea what he's gonna do."

Harry, meanwhile, had pulled out the Marauder's map, to check if any of the others were on their way. A name near one corner caught his eye. "BLOODY HELL!" he shouted as he leapt to his feet, startling them all. "Viktor, Cedric, Ron, come with me. Ginny, go get Grampa Abus. Hermione, get Professor McGonegall or Professor Snape, whichever one you run into first. The rest of you, tell the others we'll be back in a bit!"

"What ees eet?" asked Gabrielle, confused and slightly frightened.

Harry's face was hard and cold, and his voice even colder. "Wormtail. He's in the castle."

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A scrawny rat with a silver paw scurried throuh the lower floors of Hogwarts. He lifted his head, and sniffed around. Satisfied, he continued on his path to the Slytherin Common Room. He had only been there a few hundred times or so, on pranking missions with the rest of the Marauders, so he knew exactly where he was going.

Noises began to come from further down the hall. He scurried behind a suit of armor, and watched. Fortunately, it was only a pair of second-year boys, talking among themselves.

"Well, Nott's been having Lichtenstein do /something/ in the fourth floor corridor. Word has it it's something for the Dark Lord, himself," said one.

"This isn't good," said the other. "If it's true, then Nott has Him on his side, while Malfoy only has himself."

The fist one nodded. "What malfoy did to Nott and Crabbe was good and all, but maybe we need to follow the pendulum back the other way."

"Too soon, said the second. "If it's just a rumor, we'll be hung out to dry."

"Good point," responded the first, as they passed on oblivious, and turned a corner.

Now that the coast was clear, the rat scampered out, and continued. It was only a hundred yards or so to go, then he'll be in position for the mission his Lord had assigned. He knew of Nott's own mission, and deemed it appropriate that the boy appeared to be accomplishing his task.

He turned a corner, only to see two shapes in front of him. "Game's up, Wormtail," snarled one - a voice he recognized as that annoying Potter brat. "Might as well give up now."

Standing on his hind legs, Wormtail shifted. In moments, a short, slender man with wild eyes and wilder hair cackled back at the young man. "Oh, I don't think so, Potter! Only two of you against one of the Dark Lord's chosen? You'll be dining with my Master tonight!" He drew his wand, and prepared to cast a silent spell.

"Oh, There is more than two ov us," came a thick baritone from behind him.

Wormtail immediately shifted targets, launching out the spell he had prepared at the target behind him, only to see his body bind miss, and pass between two more figures. He did not recognize one of them, the one he assumed had spoken, but the other was the redheaded blood traitor that was Potter's friend. Cursing, he dove to the side as four spells converged on where he had been.

"Give it up, Pettigrew! There's nowhere to go!" shouted the one next to Potter. In the dim light, the animagus recognized him as the Diggory boy, who had been one of the contestants in the Tournament last year, which likely meant the final figure was Krum, the foreigner.

"We shall see!" cackled Wormtail, as he suddenly lunged towards Potter and Diggory. They dodged back, as a silver fist slammed into the stone floor and leaving a crater the size of a man's fist.

"Indeed we shall!" boomed a fifth voice, one that made Wormtail quail. He felt all his strength leaving him, for it was the voice of an angered Albus Dumbledore. He quickly flattened himself, and shifted, to get away before anyhing worse happened.

"STUPIFY!" shouted Ron, aiming directly in front of his foe, right as the rat started to dart forward. The spell hit him directly, and the unconscious rodent skidded across the floor until he slammed into a wall.

"Excellent work, Mr Weasley!" declared Dumbledore, as he conjured a cage around Pettigrew.

"Yeah, way to go, Ron!" cheered the petite redhead beside him.

About this time, Professor McGonegall and Hermione came around the corner. "What is all the commotion about?" she demanded.

Krum walked over, and picked up both the cage and the animagus. "A spy," he said simply, causing the Transfiguration professor to gasp.

"Hurry, let us get back to my office. I shall call the Aurors from there," said Dumbledore. "Oh, the entrance is on the second floor, today."

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"I must say, that map comes in very handy," noted Dumbledore. "And to think a group of fourth years made it, more than twenty years ago."

Sirius had shown up with the aurors to take personal custody of the man who had once been his friend. "Why, thank you, Headmaster. Err, though I guess it was Remus who did the research."

"Sir, we should head back, now," said one of the aurors. "The rat is beginning to wake up."

"Go ahead," said Sirius. "I wanna stay here for a moment and congratulate my godson and his friends." As the other aurors left, he turned to them. "So, how many of you are going to follow in my footsteps, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands with glee.

The six members of the OGL present looked at each other. "Really, I think only Ron and I want to be Aurors, Uncle Sirius,"said Harry. "Ginny wants to be a healer, and Hermione wants to be everything under the sun, from what I can figure out."

"Hey!" said Hermione, cuffing him on the shoulder and unconsciously echoing her boyfriend from nearly an hour earlier.

The students and headmaster spent the next fifteen minutes telling Sirius what exactly happened so he could properly fill out his paperwork. "Well, that was some nice work, kiddos and Sir," said the animagus. "Remus'll be so proud of you, you know."

The fire flashed suddenly green. "Sir! Auror Black!" came the voice from the unrecognized head.

"What is it, Auror Michaels?" he asked, suddenly all business.

"Pettigrew... he, well, he..."

"Spit it out!" barked the black haired wizard. "Did he escape?"

"Well... sort of, sir. But not really," said the auror.

"What happened?"

The auror gulped a little, because an angry Sirius Black was not something to be trifled with. "He... he woke up right as we were moving him to the holding cell, but before we could fasten the restraints. He... that silver hand, he.. he killed himself, sir."

"WHAT?" Sirius looked like he wasn't sure if he wanted to be enraged or relieved. "How did he do that?"

"He crushed his own windpipe, sir. He suffocated while we were trying to get mediwizards own to him."

"Damn," said Sirius. "We were hoping to wring him dry of everything Voldemort had planned."

"AAAARGHH!" screamed Harry, as he suddenly fell to the floor, clutching his scar.

"Oh, no!" Ginny dropped to her knees on the floor next to him. "Harry, fight it, whatever it is! Use the occlumancy Viktor is teaching you!"

"Angry...he's angry," gasped Harry. His eyes were barly more than a sliver of green around black, seeing only what was being forced into his head. "Rage, anger, hate... burns... Aaaaargh!"

"Quickly, out of my office. Sirius, Miss Weasley, help me get him to the hospital wing! Minerva, get Serverus, we may need him!"

zzzzzzz

"HOW? How did they find him so soon?" snarled Voldemort, the Dark Lord. His eyes burned with a savage fire, and his pale skin seemed to shimmer in the dim light as he vented his rage.

"I... I do not know, Master... " stammered a masked and robed Death Eater.

"THEN FIND OUT! CRUCIO!" Spindly fingers, knobbed and twisted like the roots of an ancient tree, thrust forward holding a wand, and a jet of hate flew forth into the wizard who had dared admit ignorance to Lord Voldemort. The wretch immediately fell, writhing and screaming with agony.

Soon, the sounds of torment had soothed his troubled mind, and the merciful Lord Voldemort released his minion from his spell. He had known Wormtail had fallen, as he felt the magic he used to create the silver hand suddenly end. "Malfoy, report," he barked.

"Sir, Nott has informed me that the repairs are taking place faster than expected. He will deposit the item in a fourth floor classroom when it is complete, and send an owl when all things are in position," said the elder Malfoy, bowing low and respectfully.

"Excellent," purred Voldemort. "You are finally proving your worth to me, aren't you?" He paced up and down the line. "Soon... soon, that muggle loving fool will be no more!"

zzzzzzz

"Aaaaagh!"

Harry Potter bolted upright in his bed. The events of the evening flooded back, and he realized it was still night time and he wasn't in his bed - he was in the hospital wing, with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione by his side.

"Harry! I was so worried!" cried the petite redhead as she flung herself around him.

"He.. he knows about Wormtail," Harry gasped out. "And... and he has Nott repairing something, and it has to do with a plan against grampa Albus."

"Don't worry about that now, Harry," said Hermione. "Even with the wards, you were in a lot of pain."

Ron shook his head. "Mate, it wasn't near as bad as Christmas, but it still was hard to watch."

"Stand aside, Weasleys, Miss Granger," came a snide voice. "I must administer potions to the boy."

They did as asked, and Professor Snape helped Harry down the potions, then lowered him back to the bed. "Now, you must rest for those potions to take effect. Have you not been performing your occlumancy?" he demanded.

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir, I have. But... it didn't feel like legilmancy, sir. It was like I had put a hundred locks on the front door, but he came in the back."

The potions master and DADA teacher scowled. "This is not good, Potter."

"Tell me about it," mumbled the bespectacled boy.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" came yet another voice, this time the one of Professor Slughorn. "What ever happened here, Serverus?"

"It has been dealt with, Horace," insisted Snape. "Tomorrow is a Saturday," he said, turning back to Harry, "so I expect you to remain in bed all day to recover. Otherwise, you will only harm yourself."

Ron turned to Ginny and whispered. "Wow, Snape's worried about Harry? That's one of the signs of the Apocalypse, isn't it?"

His sister smiled despite herself. "People change, Ron. Professor Snape? Where is Madame Pomfrey?"

"She left the boy's side five minutes ago to deal with a second year of my house who was injured in one of the... altercations of this past year. This was right before you entered. Why do you wish to know?"

Ginny glanced at Harry, who had fallen asleep from the cumulative effects of the potions. "I... I wanted to stay with him tonight," she said.

Slughorn beamed at the young girl, and interrupted before Snape could say anything. "Such loyalty and love! Do not worry, my child, I shall inform Madame Pomfrey of this, and I promise I shall convince her to let you stay!"

Snape curled his lip slightly, and shook his head, but deferred to his own teacher. "You two, however, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, must head back upstairs immediately. Off you go, curfew is in ten minutes!"

Soon, only Ginny was left with the sleeping Harry Potter. "Rest, luv," she whispered. "Get well, it hurts to see you suffer."

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A/N: At last, we discover what Remus' job is! Why, he's the 'hand-picked' liason to the Muggle Prime Minister! Heheheh, you can be sure the Ministry doesn't like that! But what is Nott up to? Whatever it is, it can't be any good! 


	30. Chapter 30: Dinner and Danger

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not the guy from Die Hard, but we still seem to enjoy seeing how much he can suffer and still stay strong... and thanks to JKR, we can. 

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Dinner and Danger

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Albus Dumbledore stared helplessly at the sleeping boy. No child should have to endure what Harry Potter had, nor even any adult, for that matter. Not for the first time, he cursed the fates that had done so to such a remarkable young man.

It had been more than a month since the arrest and death of Peter Pettigrew, and Harry had suffered no less than three attacks, each one as powerful as the last. He was remarkably fluent at Occlumancy by this time, but it didn't seem to be able to even sense the oncoming presence of Lord Voldemort into his mind.

"Something must be done," he whispered. Swearing that he would move Heaven and Earth to find a way to protect the boy he cared about so deeply, like a grandson he never had, he rose to his feet, and walked out of the hospital wing.

zzzzzzz

"Oh, come on, Harry, why won't you tell me?" chided Ginny Weasley as she was being dragged by the hand down the seventh floor corridor.

Harry smiled wickedly at her. "Because it's a surprise. And we have it all set up."

She pouted in response. "Okay. But there better have been a good reason for me to be in my dress robes! And who is this 'we', anyway?"

"Don't worry, I am too, remember? And by the way, this is something Uncle Sirius set up, so safety isn't a concern."

Soon, they found themselves standing with Ron and Hermione, also in dress robes, in front of the gargoyle that led to the headmaster's office. "Sweet tarts," said Harry, and the statue sprang aside.

Riding up the spiral stairs, they entered to find Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks waiting for them. Tonks looked stunning, with flowing blonde hair and a dynamite figure flattered gracefully by her dress robes. Lupin, however, looked somewhat nervous, and even a little bashful, though he, too, was looking very nice.

Beside them, surprisingly also in dress robes, were Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. They looked slightly uncomfortable, as they were quite used to muggle clothing, but still looked very well dressed.

"Wotcher, kids!" said the normally flamboyant auror. "I see the lessons worked, Hermione!"

Ron gaped for a second as his girlfriend blushed. "Lessons? What lessons?" he demanded.

Tonks smirked at him. "Flirting lessons, of course. How else do you think she landed you, eh?"

Ron's ears began burning, and his cheeks were flushed. "Landed me? Flirting lessons? But... but..."

"Oh, that's just too sweet," said Ginny. She grinned, and pinched her brother on the cheek. "Is ickle Ronnikins embawwassed?"

"Geroff," he snorted, turning even brighter. "Whose idea was the flirting lessons, anyway?"

Harry, Hermione, Tonks, and Remus glancd at each other. Then, at the same time, they all said, "Sirius."

Ron groaned. "So anyway, when do we leave?"

"Leave?" said Ginny. "Would SOMEONE tell me what's going on, please?"

Dumbledore looked at her, eyes shining. "Why, it's Valentine's Day, of course, Miss Weasley."

She rolled her eyes. "I know that, professor. But why are we here, in our dress robes?"

Hermione nodded. "The boys wouldn't tell either of us, sir."

"Well, that's good to hear they can keep a secret," said Remus. "Now, if you will all step close, this rose is a portkey that will activate in about thirty seconds. All will be revealed then."

All three couples gathered round, and touched the stem of the rose. "At least it doesn't have any thorns," said Hermione.

Harry laughed. "I happen to like my rose with thorns, thank you," he said, then turned and kissed Ginny. All too soon, he felt a jerking sensation behind his navel, and the dizzying flight of the portkey had begun.

They found themselves in an elegant restaurant, from which all but four tables had been removed. In the center was a large table to seat eight, while four smaller, more intimate tables were in the corners of the room. "This... this is Le Majique, Harry! One of the most expensive restaurants in Wizarding England!" gasped Ginny.

"Cor, Sirius has outdone himself this time!" exclaimed Ron.

"Why thank you, Ronnikins," came the teasing voice of Sirius Black. "The entire restaurant is yours for the entire evening. But be careful! Your portkey leaves back for Hogwarts at ten o'clock sharp!"

Sirius was dressed as a waiter, complete with a towell over his arm, and he proceeded to guide the couples to their seats around the large central table. "Now the first few courses will be here, and you all can just sit around and talk and tell stories. When the mousse arrives, that's the signal that all future courses will be at your private tables- yours is there, Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione' is over there, Vernon and Petunia are in that corner, and Fuzzball can go with my cousin over there."

"Fuzzball?" said Remus.

"Yes, MY fuzzball," insisted Tonks, laying her head on his shoulder.

Sirius soon vanished back to the kitchen, and the young couples listened as Tonks told stories about the Auror academy, and Lupin shared interesting and potentially embarrassing tidbits about Sirius, possibly as retribution for the "fuzzball" comment. Petunia, meanwhile, told stories about when Lily was younger, and Vernon sat back and enjoyed it all.

"So the three third-year girls had managed to get a leash around Padfoot's neck, and were dragging him excitedly all around the grounds,' Remus was saying. "Well, when he passed Lucius Malfoy, he couldn't resist the temptation."

"He didn't! He didn't... bite him, did he?" asked a shocked Hermione.

"Merlin, no, this is Sirius we're talking about!" laughed the werewolf. "Let's just say he lifted his hind leg."

"That's great!" blurted Ron. "Too bad none of us are animagi, so... let's just say 'like father, like son'."

"RON!" Hermione gasped, and she cuffed him on the shoulder.

"Ron, we don't need to antagonize him right now," said Harry. "We've had an easy year of it so far, the worst he's done to us is ignore us. Oh, and that tickling hex he did to you at the start of fall term."

Petunia frowned. "Ronald, I would hope you were merely joking. That's not exactly the sort of behaviour Molly condones, I can assure you of that."

Ron seemed to shrink into himseld. "Just a joke," he mumbled.

All too soon, the mousse had arrived, leaving them with time enough for just one more story. It was Tonks' turn, and she had one about, of all things, the Chudley Cannons.

"So the training camp got completely closed off, no one could enter or leave, until we got there. Seems one of the hopefuls had taken Felix Felicis, and the manager was furious," she said.

Harry and his relatives looked perplexed. "Liquid luck," supplied Hermione. :It builds up in your system and rapidly becomes toxic, so you can only take it once every several years. But right after you take it, you have about six to twelve hours where nothing can go wrong. Every chance will fall your way."

Tonks nodded. "It's banned at casinos and sporting events for that very reason. This yutz knew that,and knew he couldn't have made even the Cannons without it," she continued, ignoring Ron's cry of protest about the denigration of his favorite team, "so he tried to risk it. He didn't take enough, though, and he got caught right in the middle of tryouts."

"Liquid luck... that's it!" blurted Harry. "OGL tomorrow night, guys, pass it on when we get back. I have an idea." And despite how much they pestered him about it, Harry would not tell him what the idea was.

The following course found them all at their respective private tables. The lights dimmed, and soft candlelight appeared at each table, though no candles were present. All thoughts of Felix Felicis were banished, as Harry stared into Ginny's eyes, and realized he had found something even liquid luck couldn't equal.

They chatted for a bit, simple small talk, and simply basked in each others' presence. Eventually, he leaned towards her, and kissed her. He felt something funny, but thought it was just the flipflops his heart was doing in joy of being with her.

"Err... Harry... Ginny," interrupted a voice.

They ignored it. It wasn't Sirius telling them it was time to go, so it wasn't important. They maintained their kiss, lost in each other.

"You're in the Common Room, you know," continued the voice.

Common room? Harry glanced around, and found that they were still in their chairs from the restaurant, but the table was gon. He, Ginny, Hermione and Ron were all sitting in the Gryffindor common room. The other couple had apparantly noticed, and were saying their goodnights. "Err... wow. I think that's the smoothest portkey I ever felt."

"I don't know," murmured Ginny with a coy smile. "I felt the heavens shake, myself."

"Waaaay too much info, Gin-gin!" continued the voice, that they finally identified as one of the twins, probably the ever so slightly more laid back George.

Getting up from the chairs that had been their portkeys, Harry and Ginny bade each other goodnight, and headed off to sleep. Harry's dreams that night would not be filled with hate, fear, and death, but with hope, life, and long crimson hair.

zzzzzzz

"A familiar?" asked Minerva McGonegall.

"Yes,a familiar," affirmed Dumbledore. "Though a tighter bond than is usual. As long as Voldemort is not attempting to access Harry's mind at the time, we can force his link out by replacing it with a High Bond."

The transfiguration professor looked pensive for a moment, then nodded. "He does seem to love that owl of his a great deal, and she is fond of him, as well. But doesn't the High Bond also destroy any possibility of becoming an animagus?"

"Indeed, which is why we will inform him of this on the morrow. Later tonight, he is meeting with his wonderful Order, possibly to discuss Slughorn's memory." Dumbledore stood. "Because of the nature of forming the High Bond, I fear I am too emotionally close to him - my own feelings will tangle the threads of the Bond. If he agrees, would you be willing to perform the spell? It must be someone they respect, yet not one who is too close."

"I? But Albus, I am only..."

"Only his favorite teacher or former teacher at Hogwarts, bar his own uncles and Hagrid, of course." His eyes twinkled. "He respects you a great deal, you know."

The iron-haired witch blushed briefly. "He is a very good student, Albus," she admitted.

"And a student is a reflection of his teacher," noted Dumbledore. "So. Are you willing?"

All Minerva McGonegall could do was nod.

"Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a task to complete," Dumbledore said. He embraced her very briefly, then turned to Fawkes. "Let us be off, old friend."

zzzzzzz

"So you think if you can get your hands on some Felix Felicis, you'll be able to convince Slughorn to give you the unmodified memory?" asked Cedric.

"Exactly. I'll just be lucky, and say exactly the right thing at the right time, and he'll give it to me," replied the bespectacled teen.

"Then I guess it's lucky, so to speak, that I'm working with Slughorn, isn't it?" grinned the older boy. "Turns out he keeps a cauldronful of it on hand. I think he mentioned something about 'an edge in the last battle' for the Pheonixes."

"Great!" said Ron. "Can you get your hands on some without him knowing?"

"I do believe I can," said Cedric.

"Excellent! Well, that's about all I needed to talk to you guys about," said Harry. "I guess we can call it an evening."

As they left, they passed by the gargoyle that marked the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office. "Guess he kept it on the seventh floor today," remarked Ginny.

Harry heard something at that moment. It sounded like... Fawkes? But the phoenix song wasn't encouraging, it was almost panicked. "Sweet tarts!" he yelled, and raced up the stars faster than the elevator could have.

"Merlin! Professor Dumbledore, are you all right?" he asked.

The old headmaster was lying on the floor of his office, his right hand and forearm a smoking and blistering mass of blackened flesh, festering before his eyes. "Get... Serverus..." he managed to gasp, before his eyes fluttered closed.

Harry wasted no time. He immediately turned to Fawkes. "Professor Snape, quickly!" he begged, and the beatiful bird disappeared in a fiery flash.

By this time, the others had reached the office. "Oh my God, what happened?" asked Hermione.

"I... I don't know. But keep back," he warned, "it could be either poison or dark magic. Professor Snape's who he asked for, so let's give him room to work before he even gets here."

In a burst of flame, Snape suddenly arrived, holding on to Fawkes with one hand and a large bag of potions in the other. "What in damnation happened?" demanded Snape, even as he knelt and began to examine Dumbledore's arm, and then dig into his potions bag.

"We don't know, sir," said Harry. "We were coming back from a meeting, and when we passed the gargoyle, I could hear Fawkes sounding scared. Grampa Albus hadn't changed the password, so we got in, and I could send Fawkes to you. He was like that when we got here."

"Good. Now leave! And not one word about what you have seen tonight! Off you go, back to your respective common rooms and personal quarters!" Snape began to forcefeed Dumbledore a potion, and glancing up, was pleased to see both that they were leaving, and that they had the presence of mind not to allow the little one to see what had happened to Dumbledore.

zzzzzzz

"Get it tonight, Cedric," said Harry. "I don't know what happened to Grampa Albus, but I think our timetable just got sped up. I HAVE to get that memory tomorrow."

"I... I'll try," replied the older boy.

"I think I recognize at least part ov what avlicted the Headmaster," rumbled Krum.

"What?" asked ginny, wiping tears away.

"De grey lesions were from a potion called the Beggar's Hate. It is used to prevent theft, as no one may touch any item annointed vit the potion except he whose blood is in the potion. It consumes the flesh of the offender like an acid, killing the flesh around." Krum shuddered. "The blistering and blackening are more vile. It is a curse, placed upon objects, that is not released unless other charms tied to it are dispelled. Then it vill cause the victim to slowly burn inside out, from the point of contact, like a slow, unstoppable fire."

Fleur had rejoined them outside the Gryffindor Common Room, having already put the frightened Gabrielle to bed. "Zat is 'ORRIBLE!" she cried.

"If... if what you say is true," started Hermione, "then Professor Snape would be the best person to help the headmaster, after all. Professor Slughorn could probably counter the poison, but not the curse. And Madame Pomfrey might be able to stop the curse, but she always relied on Professor Snape for potions work. Only Professor Snape has both the potions and dark arts experience to counter both in time."

Ron was quiet. "Did you... did you notice the ring he was wearing? The one on the hand he burned?"

"No, why?"

"It had an S on it. An S shaped like a snake," he muttered. "And the center stone was cracked in half."

Viktor swore. "Then he has destroyed one of the Horcruxes - one far better shielded than the diary."

Harry paused, and seemed to look away. "No scar pain."

"So?" asked Parvati.

"So he isn't angry," said Harry.

"Which means he doesn't know the Horcrux was destroyed!" exclaimed Cho and Hermione at the same time. They looked at each other, and blinked.

"Right," said Harry. "So we'll have time to find out how many there are, and destroy them, before he knows they're gone. Now, come on. Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day."

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A/N: Well, three guesses what Dumbledore's mission was, and the first two don't count, since Ron and Viktor already answered it. But they only have a very short time to do everything else that needs to be done before Snape makes his choice! And.. what will Snape choose?

I'd also like to apologize for not responding to my reviews. I was served a notice that we're not supposed to do so in our stories, so I had to stop doing it. :(


	31. Chapter 31: Piano Dreams

Disclaimer: Not mine, never was, never will be. Sorry.

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Minerva McGonegall sighed, and looked at Poppy Pomfrey. "It's a good thing we told the Student body that Albus might be gone to London for a while. Otherwise, there may have been questions we just couldn't answer."

Poppy nodded. "Even better that those few children who know the truth have been keeping it secret."

This caused McGonegall to shake her head. "Oh, no, Poppy. They are not children anymore, I'm afraid. But neither are they adults, save for a few of them. What they are is in between. You remember how it was better than I."

Laughing, Poppy shook her head. "Now, Minnie, I'm no spring chicken anymore. But you're right. Now if you will excuse me, it's time for another salve on Albus's arm."

As she began walking out of her office with the Gryffindor Head of House, Ron and Ginny came rushing in, holding up a barely conscious Harry, Hermione in tow behind wringing her hands with worry. "Madame Pomfrey, Professor McGonegall, he's had another one!" called Ron.

Both adults took on nearly identical looks of concern and dismay. "Place him in his usual bed," said the school nurse. "You know what to do, Miss Weasley. I'll be there the instant I'm done with Albus!"

"N...no..."groaned Harry. "Bed... near... g'mpa Alb's..."

This gave Poppy pause for a moment, but McGonegall had already taken action. "Follow me," she said. She led them down to the end of the Hospital Wing, to the door to the private section, and then inside.

Dumbledore looked up, eyes twinkling. "Why, Minerva it's so good..." His voice trailed off as the youngsters carried Harry inside, and McGonegall instantly conjured another bed. "Dear Merlin, not another," he gasped, his eyes saddning immediately.

"Indeed, Albus... and he requested to be near you," she added. As Ron and his sister helped Harry into the bed where he promptly passed out, Poppy had alredy begun massaging the salve into the blackened skin of Dumbledore's arm.

Hermione looked back and forth between her friend and her headmaster. Finally, she looked at the latter, asking, "Can't... can't anything be... well, done?"

Madame Pomfrey had finished by this time, and was removing a pair of soft elastic gloves. "I'm sorry, dear girl... bu there was too much damage by the time he returned." She reached out with one hand and gently gripped the muggleborn's shoulder. "He will recover, but his hand and forearm will never be the same."

Seeing the shock in the eyes of the conscious students, Dumbledore smiled. "Do not worry, my friends. I happen to bowl left handed, you see."

After being reassured by the adults that they would be notified when Harry woke up and was ready for visitors, the students reluctantly left the room. Dumbledore, meanwhile, looked at his Deputy Headmistress. "This... this cannot go on, Minerva. Every attack seems to be driving deeper and deeper into his psyche. We must discuss the bonding with him as soon as possible."

Poppy happened to be in the room, and spoke up. "Headmaster, if you wish, I can inform him when he wakes, if you happen to be asleep, that you need to speak with him."

"That would be wonderful," said Dumbledore. "Now, do you think I will ever be able to play piano?"

This struck Madame Pomfrey as slightly suspicious, so with narrowed eyes, she answered, "Well, it's possible, though your hand might be stiffer and weaker than it was."

"Oh good," said the old wizard, eyes ablaze, "for I could never manage it before!"

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"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Screaming at the top of his lungs, Harry Potter bolted awake.

"Harry! Harry - calm down, my boy," said a comforting, familiar voice near him. Slowly, realizing his scar did not hurt and that it had been a normal nightmare and not one induced by his scar, he let himself become aware of his surroundings.

First, he realized he was in the Hospital Wing. Second, he was not in his normal bed, but one placed in the private rooms. Third, that he was next to one of the people he loved most in the world, his Grampa Albus, who was still asleep. And finally, that the comforting voice was one of the other people he loved deply, his Uncle Vernon. "Uncle Vern... Professor Dursley!" he cried, and nearly threw himself off his bed to wrap himself around the portly, older man.

Gruffly, Vernon Dursley held onto the boy who might as well have been a son to him. "It's okay, Harry. I'm here, and nothing can hurt you now." Despite the fact that the man was a muggle, the young wizard suddenly felt safer than if an entire regiment of aurors was there.

After a few moments, Harry allowed his uncle to help him back into bed. "It... it was a normal nightmare just now. But before... before, it was horrible."

"Shhh, don't worry about it. If you're patient, and you just sit back and relax, Albus thinks he may have a solution to your problem with the visions," said the muggle man.

"Indeed", came a groggy voice from the next bed. "However, it is a decision you must make for yourself."

Harry turned red. "I'm sorry for waking you up, Grampa Al... err, Professor Dumbledore."

This caused both men to laugh. "My dear, sweet child," said the Headmaster, "we are in private. It is more than okay for you to call me what you prefer to, here."

Harry noticed that his 'grampa' was gesturing solely with his left hand. "And... your arm?" he tenatively asked.

Dumbledore sighed. "I shall recover, though that arm will never be the same again," he admitted. "However, it is only thanks to your quick thinking that I shall recover as much as I shall. Madame Pomfrey tells me that if help had arrived scarcely thirty seconds later, the arm might have been a total loss. Thank you, Harry."

Once again, Harry blushed a bit, but felt like his heart was bursting with pride that he could have helped the man. "Y-you're welcome."

About this time, the first rays of the sun came streaming into the window landing directly into the eyes of Vernon Dursley. "Yeowch, that's bright!" he exclaimed, hopping up from his seat and out of the thin shaft. "After getting used to candle light, the sun in your face is quite the wakeup call."

Two minutes later, Poppy wondered why the private room was ringing with laughter.

After Dumbledore's salve and harry's potions, Poppy admitted they would both be leaving the Hospital wing that afternoon. Dumbledore would be heading straight to his office to make his appearance before the school at dinnertime, while Harry would be showing up in time for study hall before dinner. As she left, Dumbledore pulled her to one side and asked her something in a soft voice, to which she agreed.

As Uncle Vernon left to go teach class, he was promptly replaced by Aunt Petunia, who tutted and fretted about Harry like he was a precious treasure - which, to her, he was. Though he did voice some mutterings about not being made of glass, he enjoyed the attention. Dumbledore, meanwhile, watched the entire show with gleaming eyes, and would occasionally egg the muggle woman on when she showed signs of slowing down.

Come lunch time, Professor McGonegall showed up, and suprisingly carrying Hedwig, Harry's beloved owl. "Good day, Mister Potter. Albus and I have something to discuss with you, involving both your... visions... and your pet here."

This confused Harry. "How so?"

Albus decided the direct route was the best one. "It seems your visions are being caused by a bond formed when Tom gave you that scar. If we can replace it with a different, healthier bond, then perhaps we can prevent him from ever returning to plague your dreams."

Harry's eyes opened wide briefly. "If... if there's a bond, I could be dangerous to you!" he insisted.

"Oh, balderdash," said McGonegall. "You would never be a danger to us. Especially if this works," she added.

Aunt Petunia hugged him close. "You love us all too much to be a danger, Harry, love," she added.

This caused Harry to blush for the third time that day. "What are we going to do?"

Dumbledore sat up in his bed, which magically followed his motions and inclined up to support him. "You love Hedwig very much, correct?"

"Yes, sir," he admitted.

"And Hedwig seems to love you, correct?" Almost as if on cue, the snowy owl flew off Minerva's hand and onto the boy''s shoulder, where it gently nibbled lightly on his ear. "I'll take that as a yes," laughed the old wizard.

"What we are going to do," he continued, "is called the High Bond. It will bind Hedwig to you as your familiar. You will be able to sense each others' emotions, even when far away, and other abilities have been known to manifest. The familiar sometimes becomes capable of minor feats of magic, and oftn shows signs of significantly increased intelligence."

"Wow!' enthused Harry. "That sounds wonderful!" He reached up and stroked Hedwig's soft feathers. "So why would I have to make a choice? Sounds like there's no decision at all, there!"

"Because, Mr Po... Harry," began Professor McGonegall, "should you form the High Bond, it shall forever destroy any chance you might have of becoming an Animagus - like your father, or your Uncle Sirius."

"Or you," Hary added, thoughtfully. Ever since he had learned that his father and Uncle Sirius were animagi, he had wondered what it would be like to become one. He had always wondered what animal he would have become, but if he agreed to this, he would never know.

Silence reigned in the room for several moments, before Harry looked up, a determined glint in his eye. "I choose the High Bond. Grampa Albus, can you help me with it?"

"Of course, my boy, of course," said a releived old wizard. "The first step has already been done, you see, for love is one of the key elements of a High Bond..."

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The students in Study Hall cheered briefly, save of course for the Slytherins, when Harry showed up with his books in hand. Some wondered why he had brought his owl, but the white bird had been popular among many students, herself, for her beauty.

"Good news, guys," whispered Harry as he hugged Ginny and Hermione, and then cracked open his books. "Grampa Albus found a way to stop the visions for good."

He briefly explained, and Ron whistled. "That's some decision, mate. I mean, we always talked about what we could be,ever since first year."

Ginny, meanwhile, had taken to stroking Hedwig's feathers, smiling up at the bird. "You'll keep my Harry's mind safe from the evil mean nasty bad Moldy Shorts, won't you, Hedwig?" she cooed. Hedwig responded with a puffed out chest and a hoot of confidence.

Harry reached into his pocket, and felt a vial he had placed there the previous night, before his unfortunate vision. "Grampa Albus is getting out of the Hospital Wing tonight before dinner. After that, I'm going to take him Slughorn's memory, and then we're going to hold a meeting of the OGL - core members, only," he added.

The others nodded, and returned to their studies, speaking only to ask each other for help where it was needed.

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A/N: Well, Harry now has his familiar, and he also has the last clue he needs. But what will happen at the end of the school year? Only time will tell, it appears... 


	32. Chapter 32: The High Bond

Disclaimer: Sorry,not mine. All Jo's.

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The High Bond

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Ron snapped awake instantly as he heard Harry groan aloud in his bed. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was only two in the morning, and immediately shook Neville awake. "I think he's having another nightmare!" he hissed.

"Nooo..." groaned Harry. "Not nightmare... toothache..." With that, he held his hand to his lower jaw, and rolled over, trying to bury his face in his pillow.

"Toothache?" This momentarily stunned Ron. So many odd things had happened to his best friend that, when confronted with something as mundane as a toothache, he had no idea what to do.

Neville chuckled. "Harry, Harry... sit up for a second. I have some Essence of Red Clove in my trunk, that'll take the pain away long enough for you to get some sleep, then we can go down to Madame Pomfrey in the morning."

After helping their beleaguered friend, Ron and Neville popped down to the common room to sit for a while - their initial fear of another vision had woken them up too much to even consider going back to sleep. Ron shook his head. "I don't get it. I know I had toothaches when I was a kid, and was losing my baby teeth, but why would he be getting them now?"

A voice from the girl's side startled them slightly. "It could be from eating too many sweets."

"Mione!" exclaimed Ron, then immediately glanced around, afraid he was too loud so early in the morning.

"Not likely," said Neville in a matter-of-fact tone. "Wizards don't get toothaches from sweets like muggles do. Something about us keeps that prak stuff from forming."

"You mean plaque. And... we don't?" she asked, walking over and taking a seat by Ron on the couch.

"Nope. Toothaches are usually caused in Wizards by actual injury of some kind," said Neville. "I bet he cracked a tooth during one of his recent nightmares, and it just now got around to getting infected."

"Ouch," said Hermione. "Well, my parents are dentists, maybe they could..."

"Sorry, Hermione, but no drills or needles for Harry," chuckled Ron. "We use spells and potions, remember?"

"Oh. Right." She curled up her legs beneath her, and started tugging on the bottom cuffs of her pajama pants. "Will he be okay?"

"Right as rain," said Neville. "I gave him some essence of red clove to ease the pain, then he's heading down to the hospital wing in the morning."

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"Hold still, Mr Potter," complained Madame Pomfrey. "I'm sorry, but I have to touch the tooth for this diagnostic spell to work."

Harry only whimpered, then opened his jaw wider. He'd felt the effects of the Cruciatus curse, suffered intense agony in his scar in the presence of Voldemort, and broken several bones in various Quiddich accidents. Yet the pain of his toothache was something he ranked only slightly behind the Cruciatus, and that only because it was focused in a single part of him.

"Alright, done," said the medi-witch. "Before we do anything else, here is some more red clove. You're developing quite the abcess, and this will help keep the pain down." She handed him a small vial and some cotton balls, then headed to her office. Petunia Dursley was right behind her, and walked in with her.

"Hmm... ah, I see what the problem is," said Madame Pomfrey, studying her wand carefully.

"What?" asked the muggle with her.

"Oh, it looks like he cracked one of his molars when he was grinding his teeth during his last vision." She conjured a floating image, which resembled a muggle x-ray. "There. And it looks like it decided to get infected on the poor dear."

"Oh, my. Will he need a root canal?" asked Petunia.

"No, no, no," chuckled the medi-witch. "The tooth is too damaged by the infection to save. So I'll just vanish it."

"Well, that certainly sounds more pleasant than pliers."

"Pliers? By Merlin, are muggles still using pliers on teeth?"

"Sometimes there is only so much we can do without magic," admitted Petunia. "So you wave your wand, the tooth vanishes, and then what? You heal over the sore and he's right as rain?"

"Not quite," admitted Madame Pomfrey. "The infection is still there, and it's particularly resistant to most potions and spells. So instead we have to let it heal almost naturally. That means soft foods for a few days, among other things. And no sweets."

"No sweets? Poor Harry."

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Dinner time was almost agony for Harry Potter. Everyone around him was eating all the glorious foods that Hogwarts had to offer, and he was stuck with porridge. "Bleach," he grumped, swallowing his most recent bite. "They won't even let me put anything in it to make it taste better."

Ginny giggled, and then pursed her lips at him. "Awww, poor baby. No black currant tarts for you!"

His eyes grew wide, and Ron and Neville chuckled at his forlorn expression. "Black currant tarts? Noooooooooo!" he cried in mock despair.

A voice from behind interrupted his melodramatics. "If you are quite through with your display, Mr Potter, Albus has requested that you meet with him after dinner." She glanced around the table, noting to herself that at least a third of the students there seemed to be Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, and that many of her own were at other tables. She nodded towards Cho, then the rest of the OGL, and added, "He has said you may bring your friends. We will be performing the High Bond tonight."

This caught their attention. Seamus was nearby, and a confused look crossed his face. "High Bond? You getting married to Ginny or something?" he asked.

They quickly explained about turning Hedwig into his true familiar, and while he seemed interested, the Irish boy soon tuned out of the conversation. All too soon, the meal was over, and the six school-aged members of the core OGL were on their way to the entrance to the Headmaster's office. It was on the sixth floor, today.

As Harry raised his hand to knock, he was stopped by Dumbledore's voice. "Come on in, children, please!"

As they entered, those that had not been in the Headmaster's office before looked around with wonder at all the myriad devices there. When Cho saw Fawkes, she let out a breath and nearly stopped in the doorway. Parvati bumped into her, saying, "Why'd you stop, Cho? I was... Oooh!" She, too, had seen the beautiful phoenix for the first time.

Ignoring the girls, who were paying a lot of attention to Fawkes, Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Sir, are we going to be doing this here? There's not exactly a lot of room... and I don't see Hedwig, either." He then had to stop himself from playing with the empty socket his tooth had been in with his tongue.

"Oh, no," replied Dumbledore. "We shall be perfomring the ritual in the Room of Requirement. In fact, Filius is already there with your future familar." The old man turned to look at his own avian companion, and chuckled. "Now, now, girls. If you wish to spend more time with Fawkes, my door is open. But we do have work to do tonight."

Cho blushed. "Sorry, Professor," she conceded, then gently stroked the phoenix's head one last time. Together, they followed the aged headmaster down the spiral stairs, and out the opening. Contrary to when they entered, it was now on the seventh floor, not too far from the opening of the Room of Requirement.

Dumbledore was actually whistling to himself as they walked, a quite lively and intricate tune that Harry was sure he had heard before. Hermione, meanwhile, actually bit back a snicker. When he glanced her way, she just gave him a look that said 'I'll explain later.' He shrugged, and stopped, for they had reached their destination.

On entering, all of the students grew quiet. The room felt at once solemn and warm, with a daias in the middle. On that daias were Professor Flitwick and, on a perch very similar to Fawkes' own, Hedwig. On seeing her master, the apparantly flustered owl immediately flew over to him, and landed on his shoulder, leaning into his head slightly. "Ah, good, you're all here!" said the small Charms Professor. Behind him, off the daias, were Uncle Vernon and Professor McGonnegal.

Flitwick was garbed in intricate robes that were as ornate as they were impressive. He looked every inch the mighty wizard, as Dumbledore often did, though of course he didn't have as many inches as his esteemed collegue. He motioned for Harry to join him on the daias. Climbing up there, the younger man noticed that the raised area had a circle of some kind inscribed on it, filled with runes and sigils that he had never seen before.

Dumbledore's rich voice filled the room. "You five, Professor Dursley, and Professor McGonegall shall be standing over there, along with myself," he intoned, pointing to a semicircle around the daias, with eight circles following the curve. "The High Bond relies on love to assist with the procedure, so we shall be drawing on the friendship and love we all feel for Harry in this endeavor."

They took their spots, and waited. A single window to the outside was open in the room, and the last rays of the sun filtered in, giving everything a ruddy, warm hue. Then, before anyone could say a word, the light faded as the sun finally set, and Professor Flitwick began chanting.

The chant was half song and half incantation, the tiny teacher's voice a pure tenor as the words fell from his lips. His wand passed from Harry to Hedwig and back, before turning and passing across those standing in their places. He returned to face Harry and Hedwig, and the students gasped, seeing tendrils of golden light pass between the two.

Dumbledore turned slightly towards Ginny, who was on his right, and whispered. "Our own part is done, now, so I may describe to you what is going on. Those tendrils are the visible manifestation of the cords that bind a familiar and his wizard or witch. They are bonds of mutual support and love, not slavery.

"These bonds often change their recipients, making them more like each other. I am not sure exactly how this will affect Harry, but he is likely to be just a bit more open with his affections and moods, as Hedwig is. He also may develop an unusal affinity for silence, in both action and inaction. As for Hedwig, who knows what she will gain from Harry. This change also prevents him from ever being an animagus, as the animal side of his soul, his totem if you will, is now bound to her."

The golden strands wove themselves together, and were soon joined by silver and bronze strands. These likewise wrapped around each other, until three visible cords were formed - one gold, one silver, and one bronze.

"The gold cord is the most blatant one - it ties their magic," continued Dumbledore. He whispered, but all of the children and Uncle Vernon could still hear it. "Though Hedwig is unusually magically active for an owl, her strength is nothing compared to Harry's. This bond is actually mostly for her sake. With it, she can draw upon his strength to withstand and survive magics that would otherwise harm or kill her.

"The silver cord is the one that brought about the decision to perform this ritual. It bonds their minds and hearts, allowing her to aid him in resisting mind-based magics such as the Imperius curse or Obliviation, as well as allowing him to communicate with her directly by a sort of empathy. If this cord is strong enough, sometimes this can be almost as versatile as actual telepathy. Hedwig, likewise, can draw on his mental strength, and also begins to gain intelligence from this. She was already exceptionally intelligent for an owl, so she should be quite remarkable after the High Bond is complete.

"Finally, the bronze cord ties their physical well-beings. It is both obvious and subtle. As long as one is in good health, the other will enjoy an increased health and all that goes with it - faster healing times, greater endurance and hardiness, and even a tolerance for potions and poisons. It is not a remarkable increase, but it is noticeable."

Dumbledore's explaination was cut off, however, as the witnesses gasped in horror. An inky black tentacle, seeping shadows and oozing darkness, was writhing its was from the wall of the room towards Harry and Hedwig. Flitwick merely narrowed his eyes, and his lilting voice took on a more strident tone as he continued his chant. Harry, who had his eyes closed, decided to keep them closed, no matter what.

Slowly, the foul strand waved and thrashed itself about, seeking the Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione began to reach for her wand, and Dumbledore stopped her. "No, my dear,' he said softly. "That is Harry's bond with Voldemort. If you were to attempt anything before the ritual is completed, it will destroy everything we have done so far - and possibly the minds of Harry and Hedwig, as well."

"But... but what can we do?" she whispered, eyes wide in fright.

"Love him," he replied simply. He stood straight, and said in a soft, clear voice, "Everyone, concentrate on the love you have for Harry, whether it be parental, friendship, sibling, or lover. The one thing Voldemort cannot stand is love."

Soon, Dumbledore felt something in his dead hand. He could feel very little in it besides vague pressure even on the best of days, now, but he glanced down, and saw Ginny slipping her hand fearlessly into his maimed grasp. Touched, he glanced around, and noted that all of the rest had done likewise, and a golden glow, shot through with silver, began to emanate from the gathered friends and family.

Shrinking back from the glow, the dark tentacle lashed about, flailing around the room in a blind frenzy. The three cords between Harry and Hedwig thickened and grew until they were like steel cables, and Flitwick's voice grew in volume and resonance. His wand was flowing, following a rhythm of its own, and the small wizard's eyes blazed with a fierce pride, and defiance at the interloper into this sacred rite.

Smoke began to pour forth from the shadowy thing, and from Harry's scar, as well. The witnesses could see his face tighten from the pain, but even as the tendril shrivelled away into nothingness, so did the expression on his face ease. A faint whiff of sulphur and other foul substances wafted through the room, and the tendril vanished.

Dumbledore's eyes widened as he saw the smoke from Harry's scar, but said nothing. With the dark thing gone, the gold and silver light grew, and all present felt a rapturous joy. The three cords spiralled against each other and wrapped around Harry and Hedwig repeatedly. Flitwick's voice grew ever higher, and ever purer, until it was a single, perfect note calling out to the Heavens.

Darkness swept across the room, along with silence. As their eyes adjusted, the witnesses looked around, to discover it was not truly dark, but simply normal candle light. In comparison to that brilliant glow, and the last note of Flitwick's chant, everything seemed darker and quieter, is all. Finaly, Harry opened his eyes, and looked around.

Those present noticed that his scar seemed measurebly fainter, noticeably smaller. His eyes had taken into themselves faint, pale blue specks, and the grin n his face had an almost predatory look. He looked at them all, one at a time, and the look was replaced with one of love and gratitude. After meeting the gaze of each of them, he finally said a single word.

"Brilliant!"

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A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, I topped 300 reviews! Also, I am now up to nearly 95,000 hits! The idea for the three cords for the High Bond actually came from the game Ars Magica. There, it takes over a year for a familiar bond to form, but that would not do in the context of my story, heh. Also, some may wonder why Flitwick performed the ritual rather than Dumbledore. The answer is because Dumbledore, apparantly, was originally a transfiguration teacher, not charms. And since charms seems to include generally useful, non-combat spells that do not conjure, vanish, or alter their subjects, I felt he was the best one to perform the ritual.

By the way, Dumbledore was whistling "Flight of the Bumblebee" - JKR says that 'dumbledore' was an old English name for the bumblebee, and she could picture him humming or whistling as he roamed the halls like one. 


	33. Chapter 33: The Choice

Disclaimer: If Harry Potter were my creation, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction about him. :P

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"Mmm... Harrry... ERK! Harry, not now! We've got to get to breakfast!"

Ginevra Molly Weasley had discovered one small side effect of Harry's High Bond with Hedwig that she really, REALLY liked. Namely, he had developed the habit of nipping the base of her neck affectionately during their snogging sessions. It seriously distracted her, however, when he did it as part of a normal 'good morning' greeting.

The next few days found a few other changes in Harry, mostly very subtle. He seemed to need less sleep than normal, and he was almost completely indefatiguable. A five hour quiddich practice left him raring to go for more, and nothing kept him down for long. His night vision seemed to sharpen, and he could spot things in the dark that seemed to be mere shadow to everyone else.

Hedwig, on the other hand, refused to stay in the owlery. Instead, the stand used in the ceremony became her stand, and she rested there at night, next to Harry. The first time Harry even considered putting her in her age, she hooted sharply, and a wing buffet knocked it off the table. That ended that particular line of thought, of course.

Finally, the time came for the next extended OGL meeting. The secondary members were all progressing nicely, but the primary members were years beyond them thanks to the extra training Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur were giving them. Of all the secondary members, only, surprisingly, Neville and Luna could even come close to matching them in their practice duels.

Harry watched as Neville duelled with Ron, giving it all he had. Under most circumstances, he was as quiet as ever. Thanks to the Gryffindor Four, he had grown steadily more confident and self-assured with each passing year, and he lost the soft, pudgy look of his youth. However, Ron was still more than capable of handling Neville, though it was a remarkably entertaining duel.

"Okay, looks like that's about it, people," said Hermione, checking her watch. "Don't forget, the next meeting is next week at the same time!"

As the extended OGL filed out, the core members stayed where they were. When the door closed, they willed a table into existance, and sat down. "Okay," said Harry, "Dumbledore says I'm going with him to find one of the Horcruxes next Friday night."

Krum crossed his arms. "I don't like the sound of that, Harry," he rumbled. "Both of you gone... if anyone knew, it would be an ideal time for a Death Eater assault." His English had improved considerably, but his attitude was as surly as ever.

Cho frowned. "Think we should have the rest of the OGL on standby, just in case?"

"Sounds good to me," said Harry. "Cedric, I know Professor Slughorn still has that batch of Felix Felicis in his lab, he's mentioned it in class. Warn him something's up, and do your best to convince him that if something horrific happens Friday, to pass it out to anyone willing to fight. We need all the luck we can get."

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The week raced by, and that Friday, dreaded by all, had arrived. The extended OGL had been put on alert, and Professor Slughorn had agreed to their request. Classes went by in a blur for Harry, and he soon found himself in Dumbledore's office. "Now, my boy," said his beloved 'grampa', I must ask you to swear something to me." His voice was deadly serious, and was filled with a tone that would brook no argument. "Otherwise, you may not assist me."

Harry swallowed deeply. He knew that if Dumbledore went alone, he could likely die; after all, the last time he went after a horcrux alone, it was only timely intervention from Harry and Professor Snape that saved his arm, such as it was; it still had yet to heal.

"You must obey any command I give you without question," began the old wizard, looking older than Harry had ever seen him.

"Of course."

"Be sure, Harry. That means even if I order you to run, to hide, or to return here, you will do so, do you understand?"

"I... I do, sir. If you tell me to hide, or run away, I'll do it."

"And if I tell you to leave me and save yourself?"

Harry stood silently, his heart at war with what he knew he should do. Finally, a single tear trickling down his face, he nodded, though he did not trust himself to speak. Instead, he took three strides and engulfed the man he called 'grampa' in a powerful hug.

"My boy," murmured Dumbledore, "my dear, dear boy."

Together they left Dumbledore's office, and headed out to Hogsmeade. Once beyond the sight of prying eyes, Dumbledore summoned Fawkes, and they vanished in a flash of flame.

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It was a complete nightmare, from Harry's point of view. They approached a cave that Dumbledore said had been used by a young Tom Riddle to torment some of his fellow orphans. To get there they had to swim in frigid water, and clamber across rough rocks that tore at his hands. The old Headmaster slashed his own hand to smear blood on a wall and gain entrance into the shadowy interior.

After trying a simple accio charm and failing, they drifted across an underground lake in a small boat. On the other side, Harry was forced to endure possibly the most horrific incident since the ressurection of Voldemort. He had to nearly force Dumbledore to drink an unkown potion, under the old man's own orders, in order to clear a basin and reach the horcrux within.

As the man he loved as a surrogate grandfather begged and pleaded with Harry to kill him, the boy wept, but kept feeding him the potion. Finally, the basin was empty, and he snatched up the locket therein, but Dumbledore was unconscious on the floor. He had to try the Renervate spell twice to wake him up, then gave him some cool water from the nearby lake.

Unfortunately, that woke up the swarms of Inferi, zombie-like corpses, that inhabited the lake. The now more alert Headmaster drove them off with fire, and with Fawkes' aid, they returned to Hogsmeade.

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"Just a little farther, Grampa Albus," soothed Harry as he helped the weakened man walk down the alley they had appeared in. Fawkes' tears appeared to have helped considerably, but he still needed time and rest to fully recover.

"Thank you, my dear boy," said Dumbledore. Soon they reached the end of the alley, and turned onto the main street of Hogsmeade.

Both gasped in horror, as the Dark Mark hung over Hogwarts, itself! Myriad flashes of colored light raced across the sky as curses and hexes missed their intended targets. Screams of various creatures could be faintly heard echoing through the darkness, including the roars of Hagrid and another voice, deeper and more voluminous.

"Fawkes!" barked Dumbledore. "The astronomy tower! Harry, put on your invisibility cloak, please!"

Harry did as he was told, and soon found him joining his headmaster as they vanished through fire and appeared on the Astronomy Tower. Fawkes flew off to help where he could, and Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Whatever else happens, dear child, please know that I love you. I could love you no more if you were my own true Grandchild."

A single tear dripped down the boy's cheek, as his mind flashed back to nine years old. "It's okay," he said, embracing the old man. "I know you love me, so that makes us family."

"Why, so it does," was the reply, with eyes shining with love and unshed tears.

Their conversationwas cut short as the door to the Astronomy Tower burst open. Harry saw Dumbledore wave his hand, and he suddenly found himself frozen in place, unable to speak. The invisibility cloak, which had slipped down during his comment about family, was now firmly in place. And through the now open doorway stepped two figures, one considerably larger than the other. "EXPELLIARMUS!" cried the smaller figure, and Dumbledore's wand went flying off the tower.

"Well, well, well," said Theodore Nott. "If it isn't the muggle-loving old fool. And unarmed, and totally at my mercy," he smirked.

"Careful, boy, he's still dangerous," said his larger companion. The man was in Death Eater robes, with the white skull-like mask firmly in place.

"I know that, Amycus! Don't distract me!" barked the younger. A vicious smile spread across his face. "I've been wanting to do this for years, and now I have my chance."

"Are you so certain?" asked Dumbledore, his voice as cold as ice. "Be warned, this is a step beyond which there is no redemption."

Nott spat at Dumbledore, who simply leaned aside to remain clean. "I've already taken that step, you senile old coot! Who do you think killed those four muggles in Manchester three weeks ago?"

Amycus put a hand on Nott's shoulder. "Just freeze him, boy. Killing him is Snape's job,"he growled.

A loud explosion sounded far below. "I know that! Immobolus!" With a simple leg-locker curse, the boy made sure the greatest wizard of the age was unable to run or dodge when the appointed assassin arrived.

Harry strained and strained against the force of the spell Dumbledore had used on him, but it was no use. He knew Snape was supposed to kill Dumbledore, and knew that the old man was prepared to die willingly in order to both keep the Potions professor alive, and put him in a position to better serve the Order of the Phoenix, and by extension the Order of the Golden Light. But he just could not accept the death of his beloved Grampa Albus, and so Harry kept fighting.

Moments later, as Nott spat successfully this time on the immobilized old wizard, a third form appeared behind Amycus and nott. It was Severus Snape himself, in his teaching robes and no mask. "Well, Severus," said Amycus, "ready for your big day?"

Dombledore locked eyes with Snape, and Harry realized they were conversing with Legilmancy. An idea occurring to him, he opened up his own channel to Hedwig. 'Hedwig,' he thought, 'I need you!'

Meanwhile, the old wizard allowed sorrow to seep into his expression. "Severus... PLEASE..." he begged.

"Hah, he's begging for his life!" snorted Nott. At that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to hex the boy to within an inch of his life, but was prevented from doing so by Dumbledore's spell. So, all he could do was watch and wait.

"No... he is begging for his death," said Snape softly. A thousand emotions spread across his face as the potions master considered every possible ramification of what he was about to do. At last, he made his decision. Harry wished he could close his eyes, but could not, and was forced to witness what was about to happen.

Rapidly lowering his wand, he called out, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The sickly green beam lanced out... stealing the life from Amycus the Death Eater. Snape gasped in agony as the penalties of breaking an Unbreakable Vow began to take hold, but turned his wand onto the shocked Theodore Nott. "Sectumsempra!" he gasped, causing large bloody gashes to sprout on the boy's body. Nott dropped to the floor of the tower, crying out in pain.

Knowing there was no turning back, Dumbledore made a quick gesture, and Harry found himself suddenly free. "Professor Snape!" he cried, and rushed over to the man's side. Glancing at Dumbledore as he helped Snape settle to the floor, he sent a quick 'Finite Incantatem', freeing the headmaster from Nott's spell.

"By Merlin, Severus, what have you done?" demanded Albus, his voice holding both great anger and great sorrow.

"I... I could not, sir. I could not do it," admitted Severus. "And I am sorry... so... sorry..."

It was quiet for three long heartbeats on the Astronomy Tower, as Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, Death Eater, and Spy, died as a result of breaking an Unbreakable Vow.

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Those present in Hogwarts that day would remember a sight that would at once terrify them and fill them with hope for the rest of their lives. Striding down the halls like demi-gods, Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter cut a swath through the attacking Death Eaters and their allies as a scythe through grain. A stunner from Potter managed to blast a huge blonde Death Eater back into another, knocking them both out, while a flick of Dumbledore's wand ended the threat of Fenrir greyback for weeks to come as he healed.

Thunder and lightning crashed within Hogwarts' hoary halls, the staccatto beat accompanied by the trumpeting of the battle cry of a phoenix. As they moved from the Astronomy Tower to the Fourth Floor, the two picked up an enterage of those students and faculty who had been fighting as they passed. Bill Weasley and Justin Finch-Fletchley had been taken to the Hospital Wing by Fawkes, but Luna, Neville, Ginny, Parvati, and Cedric stayed with the pair of champions.

Moving down floor by floor, their inexorable advance was the downfall of many of the troops of the Dark Lord. Unable to apparate away, most ran for the Entrance Hall, where the rest of the Order of the Phoenix and the Order of the Golden Light were waiting for them. Minerva McGonnegall managed to stop Lucius Malfoy, while MacNair, Crabbe Senior, and Nott Senior were all defeated by the remarkably agile and accurate Filius Flitwick. Hagrid himself stopped many of the creatures the Death Eaters had brought along, with the aid of a huge form at least twenty feet tall that they would later discover was Hagrid's half-brother, Grawp.

Mulciber was brought down by Cho and Fleur working in concert, Goyle Senior was easily dispatched by Viktor Krum, and to eveyone's surprise, Bellatrix LeStrange was taken down in single combat by Neville Longbottom, in a duel as spectacular as it was vicious. Finally, Bellatrix dodged the wrong way, and the boy was able to put a full-body bind on her. Luna then congratulated him on not kicking her when she was down, as much as he wanted to.

In less than forty minutes, Hogwarts fell silent. All of the Death Eaters and their creatures had either fled or been taken captive, and not a single one of the defenders had lost their life. Bill and Justin were the worst hurt, Bill having been mauled by a still human Fenrir greyback and Justin on the recieving nd of a particularly nasty blasting hex.

Amycus, Rabastan LeStrange, and Theodore Nott were all dead, on the dark side. Nott and Amycus were slain by Snape, while Rabastan was killed by falling masonry after a poorly aimed curse failed to hit its mark.

And on the Astronomy Tower, the faculty gathered to bring one of their own down to his proper place.

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A/N: I know, relatively short... but I had to get this one out. I may end up going back and re-writing this chapter later, but for now this is it. I have trouble with battle scenes, and I didn't want to copy the Horcrux Hunt chapters from HBP word for word... 


	34. Chapter 34: Gallantry and Tragedy

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Gallantry and Tragedy

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"No, it simply is not done!" insisted Minister Fudge. "We do not give the Order of Merlin, Third Class, to a MUGGLE!"

Resisting the urge to slap the ineffective buffoon, Amelia Bones sighed. "Minister, he may be a muggle, but he is an employee of Hogwarts. And he was directly responsible for the death or capture of no less than eight Death Eaters, thanks to that Got-Shun of his. Only Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter accounted for more of them than he did, and they are wizards."

"No. I simply refuse. The only compromise is I will upgrade Severus Snape's Order of Merlin to First Class for his actions in giving his life to save the Headmaster."

Knowing when a battle was lost, the head of Law Enforcement for the Ministry of Magic nodded. "Very well, Cornelius. Very well."

As she strode out, stony-faced, she happened to run into Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, both waiting in the Minister's antechamber. "Well, good afternoon. I would think you would be at Hogwarts right now with your 'nephew'," she greeted them as she felt an honest smile begin to form. She had always liked the two men, rather like they were mischevious nephews.

Lupin smiled, but it was strained. Both men had taught at Hogwarts, and knew nearly every one of the injured students and teachers. "Good afternoon, Madame Bones. I'm actually here on business, and Sirius has volunteered to assist me."

"Business? Of what sort?"

Sirius grinned. "It seems that the Prime Minister, in his update this morning, happened to hear about the performance of a certain muggle during the Battle of Hogwarts three days ago. Knowing that Fudge probably would do nothing about it, he approached the Queen. She has decided to grant him the Queen's Gallantry Medal, in recognition of his service to her Royal Cousin."

This stunned Madame Bones. "Royal Cousin? One of the students is a Royal Cousin?"

Sirius nodded, lips pursed and looking around exaggeratedly. "Yes, but we can't say who. Top secret, pish posh, and all that, you know."

"So, we've come to let the Minister know it would likely be in his best interests to draw up a Press Release," added Remus. "The Royal Cousin bit will be left out, but the other specifics of the award should be included."

Sirius grinned wickedly. "And the fact that the Queen might look with disfavour upon such a prominant member of our society might also give a bit of a kick in the pants to ol' Fudgey boy," he concluded.

"I somehow doubt that, but it is possible," admitted Madame Bones with a wry grin. "Well, I've kept you boys long enough. I shall see you in the office, Sirius."

"Yes ma'am!" he barked, saluting and smiling at the same time. As she left the waiting area, he turned to Lupin. "I always did like the old broad. Tells you how she sees it, pulls no punches, and has her head on straight. No political maneuverings like Scrimegeour, and no hidden agendas."

"Like us and the Order?" asked the werewolf.

"Precisely! Now get in there, I wanna see the look on Fudge's face."

zzzzzzz

Harry Potter fought to keep his eyes open, and sat up streighter in the chair he rested in. Shortly after the battle had ended, Dumbledore had collapsed. Fortunately, they were already in the Hospital Wing helping some of the injured get there, and he was whisked onto a bed before he even had hit the ground thanks to Flitwick's quick wandwork.

It had been three days, and the aged wizard had yet to regain consciousness for more than a few minutes at a time. At first, Harry blamed himself, thinking of the horrid potion in the cave where the horcrux was. But it was soon revealed that the culprit was none other than the curses and poisons involved in the first horcrux Dumbledore had tackled, Slitherin's Ring. They had never been fully stopped, only slowed down, and the stress of battle lowered the Headmaster's internal defenses enough for them to start their inexorable progress once again.

Slughorn and Madame Pomfrey worked overtime, with the assistance of many uninjured students such as Harry, to keep up with the injured as well as try to stabilize Dumbledore once more. Help was sent from St Mungo's, but sometimes it just didn't seem like enough. Now they could only wait - if he woke up again, the worst would be over. But if he didn't... Harry didn't want to think about that.

Harry was never alone sitting with the Headmaster.Various members of the OGL, both core and extended, would often join his silent vigil, and Ginny herself was almost always there. Only Fawkes was there more often than she was, but even he would leave to hunt on occasion. His Aunt and uncle would join them often as well. Occasionally someone from outside the OGL, such as Lavendar or, surprisingly, Pansy Parkinson, would join him. When Pansy showed up, he and Ginny merely met her gaze, and nodded; nothing was said. But the Slytherin girl visibly relaxed, and cracked open a schoolbook to study while waiting.

Now, however, he was alone. Ginny would have been with him, but she had fallen asleep on his lap for the third time, and he practically demanded she get some sleep. She tried to argue, but he silenced her with a kiss, saying she would sleep for the both of them.

"Harry?" came the croaking whisper he had been waiting for.

"Grampa Albus!" he exclaimed hoarsely, and darted out of his chair. "You're okay, you'll be fine!" he exclaimed.

The old man reached out with a shaking arm and touched his face gently. "My dear, sweet boy... I am so very proud of you."

Harry nodded, and leaned into the hand slightly. "Grampa Albus, the healers said that if you woke up, the worst would be over, that you'd have finally broken through the curse."

Eyes dimming sadly, Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry... they were wrong. So very, very wrong."

"What?"

"I'm dying, Harry," said the Headmaster simply. "Nothing can stop the inexorable onslaught of this curse. It can be delayed, or slowed down, but it will destroy me in the end."

Stunned, the Boy Who Lived dropped back into his chair. "But... you..." He closed his eyes, and a single tear trickled down his face. "How... how long?" he asked.

"I do not know. Weeks. Months, perhaps," he admitted. "It is enough to say that next year, Minerva will be in charge of this school in my place. Even if I live, I will be in no condition to run Hogwarts."

A flash of flame, and Fawkes appeared, floating to the headboard of the bed Dumbledore was in, and started crooning softly and sadly. Tears trickled down the beautiful beak, onto the old man's face. "Can't... can't the tears do anything?" begged harry. "Anything at all?"

"Yes, they can," admitted Dumbledore. "They have already stopped and cured the poison that went along with the curse, as well as the poison that I forced you to feed me in the cave. But beyond that, they can only let me know how much Fawkes loves me and will miss me."

Harry gingerly laid across the headmaster to enfold him in a hug. "I don't want to lose you, Grampa Albus. I almost lost you on the Astronomy Tower, but Sn... Professor Snape gave his life for you, instead."

"Indeed... though I had asked him not to. Harry... if he HAD killed me, know this. It would not have been murder. It would have been the same as a muggle being taken off life support, and allowed to die as he was supposed to."

"But he couldn't do it, sir." Harry lifted himself off his beloved 'grandfather', and sat back down on the chair.

Albus nodded. "His sense of compassion hadgrown too great. Did you know that not six years ago, had I asked him to kill me, he would have done so without a single hesitation?"

"Why?"

"Because he had spent too long submerged in the darkness in his soul. He considered no one a friend and no one a confidant. Though he spied for the light, the Dark Mark on his arm kept reminding him he was tainted, unworthy."

"Then what happened?"

Smiling, Dumbledore patted Harry on the shoulder."You did, my boy. He was prepared to hate you, given your resemblance to his boyhood nemesis, James Potter, but quickly found instead someone who actually showed him respect and thought about him as a human, and not as the 'overgrown bat of the Potions lab', as I believe many of your contemporaries referred to him."

Hary sat there for a while, digesting all of this. Professor Snape's left arm had been 'conveniently' destroyed by a random curse hurled during the battle, so his true allegience was known by his final act. But to take that mark, that meant that at one point he must have been willing - and eager - to enter Voldemort's service. "So... no one is irredeemable?" he asked.

Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. "I once thought that, my boy. But if it is, in fact, true... it is still too late for Tom Riddle. The act of making a horcrux not only splits one's soul, it locks it up as if imprisoned. It cannot change, it cannot grow. Instead, it is forever in the state needed to create such a foul tool. The state of a murderer at heart, with only darkness as a goal."

"I... see. Oh, I almost forgot!" He reached into his robe, into the pocket where he had kept the locket ever since their fateful trip into the cave. He pulled it out. "What should I do with this?" he asked.

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Harry... is that the locket from the cave?" he asked. Harry nodded. "Then... then all of that was for naught." The old wizard seemed to deflate back against his pillow, and he appeared to carry every one of his numerous years.

"I... I don't understand..." Harry then looked at the locket - and gasped. There was no 'S' on it. It was not Slytherin's Locket. "What... who?"

"Open it up, dear boy. Perhaps there is a clue inside."

He did as he was asked, and found a note within:

'To the Dark Lord:  
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.  
I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.  
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,  
you will be mortal once more.  
R.A.B.'

"R.A.B..." muttered Dumbledore. "Regulus Arcturus Black..."

"Regulus? Uncle Sirius's brother?" asked Harry. "The one that was a Death Eater?"

"No, Harry. The one that stopped being a Death Eater, and sought a way to help destroy a monster."

zzzzzzz

It was decided that the ceremony to honor those who had fought in the Invasion of Hogwarts would double as a salute to the only casualty of the defenders, Professor Snape. His framed Order of merlin would forever hang in the Trophy Room above a photo from the previous Christmas, where a ghost of a smile would play at his face above his black robes.

To everyone's surprise, Professor Dursley was given the Queen's Gallantry Medal for his own actions with his shotgun in defending some of the younger students. The Death Eaters had been quite unprepared for the blistering buckshot and, on at least three occasions, the incredibly painful rock salt, and he had not let a single one past him to his charges. Flitwick, as well, was awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class, as was Harry for his own role in the cleanup of the battle. And every single student and teacher who fought was given an award for meritorious service.

As Vernon was recieving his award, the representative of the Queen whispered something in his ear. He replied, and they held a hushed onversation for several long seconds. Later he would not say what the conversation was about, but did tell his wife and Harry to keep their summer evenings open for a while.

The ceremony commemmorating Snape was actually surprisingly honest. His virtues, such as his keen wit, skill at potions, and absolute loyalty to Dumbledore, were lauded, while his flaws were actually acknowledged if not dwelt upon. Harry himself went up to the podium to tell the story of his final act, and discovered a single tear dripping down his face as he recounted the furious burst of hexes and curses he managed to unleash before the Unbreakable Vow claimed his life.

The finale was unveiling a statue on the Great Hall, to be placed behind the Head table in the position of a guardian over the headmaster's shoulder. It was an onyx raven, with emerald chips for eyes. Harry could almost swear he saw its head turning from side to side, keeping a silent vigil over whoever was worthy to sit in that chair. He glanced at Professor McGonegall, and wondered if Dumbledore had told her his own, frightful news.

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"The choice was made."

"Indeed, it was." said a deep booming voice.

"Did I choose wrong?"

"No. No, indeed," it replied. "Behold."

"Great Merlin... so beautiful... But am I..."

"You are worthy, Severus Snape. Enter your reward."

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A/N: And so ends Fifth Year. Death, injuries, and distressing news accompany joy and wisdom. But waits in store for Sixth Year? We shall see... 


	35. Chapter 35: Summer Begins

Disclaimer: Yes, I have a disclaimer on every chapter because I think they can be fun.

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Summer Begins

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'Gah!' thought Harry to himself. 'Was it 1389 or 1398?' He mentally flipped a coin, and scribbled down what he thought was the answer to the last question.

Just moments later, the proctor of the exam called out "TIME! Quills down, and please place all your papers flat on your desk. We will gather them up after you have left the classroom. Congratulations, you have just completed your OWL for History of Magic, and your OWL exams are finished. Have a good summer!"

As they shuffled out the door, Ron leaned over to Harry. "Is it just me, or is it just a little odd to have to deal with History of magic and not be able to see the blackboard behind the teacher?"

The Boy Who Lived snorted. "Yeah, that's true. It'd be like going to Divination class and not have to wear nose plugs from the smell of the incense."

Hermione, on the other hand, clutched at Ron's arm. "Common Room. Now. Please," she said, and the two of them noticed she was shaking rather hard.

Popping through the portrait hole, after exchanging pleasantries with the Fat lady, the Trio flopped down on their favorite seats. Harry instinctively reached over to put his arm around the seat next to him, but quickly remembered Ginny was taking her own end of term exams at the time. Meanwhile the other gryffindor Fifth Years drifted to other parts of the Common Room, chattering away.

Hermione practically collapsed into Ron's lap. "Over... it's over..." she mumbled.

The gangly redhead started toying with her hair with one hand. "You know, you really let these things get to you a bit much," he chided. "I mean, come on, they're just exams."

The bushy-haired witch bolted upright. "JUST exams? Ron, the OWLs are among the most important..."

"Hold it, Hermione," interrupted Harry. "We know how important the OWLs are. We just think that you worry too much about them. You're the top student in our class, and if anyone can get into any class she wants, it's you. Now since there's nothing more we can do about them, let's just spend from now until we get our results just relaxing, and doing nothing. Besides having fun, that is."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of a retort, but apparantly failed. She was spared any further attempts at rationalizing by the sound of the portrait hole opening and the Fourth Years entering. "DONE!" declared Ginny triumphantly, as she flopped down into Harry's lap rather forcefully.

"OOF! Ginny, you're a lightweight, but sometimes even a lightweight can flop onto the wrong spot!" groaned Harry, as he started to fold up into himself.

"You mean she landed on..." started Hermione.

Ginny hastily stood up, and Harry slumped almost bonelessly to the floor. "You mean I... I..." she stammered, turning as brilliantly red as her hair.

"Apparantly," noted Hermione.

Ron by now was sitting with his legs crossed, and a wince imbedded on his face. "And that was an accident, Harry. Think of what it would have been like if it was on purpose!"

"Rather not, thank you," squeaked the black-haired young wizard.

This caused Ginny to choke back a giggle. "Luv, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... well, do what I wish would happen to Fudge," she managed to breathe out.

Harry slowly dragged himself back up on the loveseat, and let out a huge breath. "No, no, if you do it to him," he gasped, "use your foot instead."

"And use steel toed boots," added Ron.

Hermione humphed. "Honestly, the man may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he is STILL the Minister."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we know..." he began.

"Use a gold-plated boot. It's more dignified," she continued.

"MIONE?" squawked Ron.

"Not to mention a lot heavier... more momentum," mused Ginny. "Might even break te pelvic bone."

The sound of collective groans and several thuds caught their attention, as the male half of those gryffindors present clutched at the target of this discussion and winced, some even falling to the floor.

"Well, now we know how to get their attention," noted Parvati from across the room.

zzzzzzz

The train ride back from Hogwarts was relatively quiet, as everyone simply collapsed into their compartments. But, unlike the trip there several months earlier, this one DID feature a visit from Draco Malfoy.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Parvati, and Cho were lounging around. The Fifth Years were complaining about their OWL exams, Cho was telling them they were nothing compared to the actual NEWT courses, and Ginny sat with growing fear of the coming year. In the midst of this, a single, loud knock was heard from the door.

Being the closest to the door, Harry got up and opened it. There, on the other side, stood Draco. "Afternoon, Potter," he said with a curt nod of his head.

Harry stiffened slightly and his hand crept to be close enough to draw his wand if need be. "Afternoon, Malfoy."

The platinum blonde Slytherin pretended not to notice. "I thought I should give you the news directly. "Slytherin will be a non-entity in the war. Thanks to ... Professor Snape, all but the most recalcitrant members of my House have come to see reason."

Harry noticed a bit of a quaver in the young man's voice when he mentioned Professor Snape. It wasn't entirely unexpected - Snape had treated him like a Golden Boy from day one, and they might have had a very close relationship, with Snape being almost a father figure. "That was something I had pretty much already figured out, Malfoy, but thanks for the confirmation. Was there anything else?"

Draco paused for a moment, then nodded. "Actually, yes. Thanks to McGonegall, I am now the head of House Malfoy, with all that entails. Remember that should we ever come to opposition again."

Harry nodded. "And I am head of House Potter, with all that entails. Look it up if you don't know what that means," he added. "Good day, Malfoy."

Draco nodded, a curious look on his face. "Potter." He then turned, and walked away.

Harry closed the door, and the others looked almost relieved. "Wow," said Ron. "A train-side confrontation with Malfoy that didn't include wands being drawn."

Ginny, meanwhile, sent a sidelong glance to Harry. "Why did you bring up 'with all that entails', Harry? I thought you wanted that bit kept secret," she whispered.

"They'll be finding out soon enough," he grumbled. "And I might as well learn to use it while I can."

Another knock came on the door of their cabin. Harry once again opened it, and smiled broadly. "Uncle Vernon! Aunt Petunia!" He embraced them both, while Cho muttered an enlargement charm to make the compartment large enough to fit the extra people.

"Harry, how has your ride been so far?" asked Uncle Vernon.

"Pretty quiet. A bit of an odd visit from Malfoy, but no trouble, just information." He filled them in. "So why are the two of you coming to visit a bunch of students?" he asked with a grin.

Petunia smiled. "Well, we happened to run into a pair of friends of yours, and thought they might enjoy riding with you - especially since one of them claims to be your 'adopted sister'."

From behind the considerable girth of Uncle Vernon popped two tiny forms - Gabrielle and Euan Abercrombie. "'Arry!" cried Gabrielle who gave him a hug worthy of Molly Weasley, then began passing out hugs to the other occupants of the compartment.

Euan, meanwhile, stared at the older kids nervously. Harry fixed him with a mock glare. "So... are you treating my 'sister' right?" he growled.

"Harry!" protested Ginny, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Umm, it's not like that, sir," protested Euan. "We-we're just friends, is all."

Smirks and knowing looks passed around the room. "Of course you are," demurred Harry, "but are you taking care of her?"

This time it was Gabrielle's turn to lightly swipe at his shoulder, though she had to reach up to do so. "'Arry!" she protested. "'E's a gentleman, and 'as helped me make some friends my own age!" she insisted, grabbing Euan's arm and making the poor boy blush.

Harry broke out into a grin. "Good for you, Euan. We can wait 'till you're older to plan the wedding," he teased.

It wasn't the cushions that the other girls threw at him for that that threw him off his game, it was the chocolate frog tossed by Ginny that managed to fall inside his robes and start squirming about that did it.

zzzzzzz

Summer was one of Harry's favorite times of year. While he may not be at Hogwarts, he could usually be found either at the Burrow, or at privet Drive, two of his favorite places in the world. And on top of that, his cousin Dudley was coming back from Smeltings that day, just a day after Harry had gotten back. "Come on, we'll be late," he insisted, practically dragging Uncle Vernon to the car.

The heavyset man just laughed. "Calm down, Harry. We have plenty of time to make it to the Station." He then sighed. "You do realize that in two years/both/ of you will be graduating, right?"

This gave the young wizard pause for a moment. Sure enough, even though Dudley was a year older, they would be graduating together. But Harry would then be continuing his education, and moving on to college, while Harry would begin training directly for his chosen career. Shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, still celebrated as a great victory in the Daily Prophet, he had been given a Career Counseling meeting with Professor McGonegall, where he had decided he liked the idea of becoming an Auror. She had been so proud of this decision she had promised to move Heaven and Earth to help him achieve this goal. And from her expression he was convinced that, if she could find the right incantation, she would do just that.

"I... I know, Uncle Vernon. But we haven't graduated yet!" he reminded him. "And we never will if we just leave Dudley on the platform, so let's go!"

Aunt Petunia laughed. No one would ever say she had a pretty laugh, but it was warm and came from the heart. "I swear, Harry, you would think you hadn't seen your cousin in ten years the way you're acting."

"Well, it feels like it," he admitted, "especially since the two of you were at school with me. Without him it felt... odd. Like I was trying to take you away from him or something."

A beefy hand rested itself gently on his shoulder. "Now, Harry, I'm sure he knows you'd never do anything like that. Besides, how could you take us away? We love you both very much."

He grinned. "I know. Now come on, time's a-wasting!"

At the station, they watched as the train pulled in, and Dudley stepped off, dragging his trunk. His eyes lit up at the sight of his family, and he waved goodbye to his friends and headed their way. "Harry, have I got news for you!" he grinned.

"Oh?" asked Harry. "What is it?"

"Remember Mark Evans, the kid down the street we rescued from Polkiss and his crowd last summer?"

"Yeah, sandy hair, small for his age?" He barely remembered the kid, but remembered the incident quite distinctly.

"Well, his older brother goes to Smeltings, and he's in a few of my classes. Turns out little Mark is going to be going to Smeltings next year!"

"Cool!" Harry said. "With you there, he'll have at least his first two years pretty darn safe then, won't he?"

"Right! Now come on you git, help me get this trunk to the car."

Harry lightly punched Dudley on the shoulder, noting to himself that it felt like punching a brick wall. "You're the muscle of this operation, I'm the speed, remember?"

"Then who's the brains?" chuckled his cousin.

"I am," interrupted Aunt Petunia. "Now both of you stop the banter until we get the car loaded up. Molly and I are making a special dinner for the families, and we need to get to the Burrow as soon as we stop off at home and clean up."

zzzzzzz

Harry finished toweling off his hair in his room as he thought about the Burrow. Ginny and Ron would be there, of course, but Hermione's parents had taken her to Aruba almost as soon as they had gotten home, so she wouldn't be there. He grinned, knowing Ron would be moping about without admitting why, even though the two had been dating for some time now.

A rap on his door interrupted his thoughts. He hastily pulled on his trousers, and called out, "Come in!"

The door opened, and Dudley came walking in. He had gotten first crack at the shower since he had been on the train most of the afternoon, and was already in fesh clothes. "Dad showed me the Prophet," he said quietly. "The potions teacher actually did what they say?"

Harry nodded, and picked up his shirt. It was a red short-sleeved collared shirt, the kind called a 'polo' shirt even if it wasn't the 'Polo' brand. "Yeah... he did. I was there, and saw it with my own eyes."

Dudley whistled. "He saved Grampa Albus' life. He's a hero."

Tears began to form in Harry's eyes. "He was a hero, no doubt. But... he didn't exactly save Grampa's life," admitted the smaller boy.

"What?"

"He... he's dying, Dudders. Poisoned from within by a curse that's burning his body from the inside out, one that hit him shortly after the Christmas hols."

Stunned, the larger boy dropped onto Harry's bed. "H... how long?" he choked out.

Harry shrugged, and let a tear or two trickle down his cheek as he pulled the shirt over his head. "He said six months, maybe a year left. And he's stepping down as Headmaster, letting Professor McGonegall take over."

They sat in silence as Harry finished dressing, and made a half-hearted attempt to tame his unruly hair. Finally, Dudley spoke again as they both stood and prepared to leave the room. "At least... at least we'll be able to say goodbye," he gulped.

Harry only nodded, because he didn't trust himself to speak. He put one arm over the shoulderof his slightly older cousin, and together they walked down to the car.

zzzzzzz

As usual, the Burrow was virtually ablaze with life and activity. The merging of muggle cooking techniques from Molly Weasley and Petunia Dursley seemed to be a syncopated symphony, and the two House Elves who witnessed their smooth and easy teamwork could only gape in awe. The fact that they had been ordered not to help with dinner, and that they had finished all their other chores, meant that they were doing the only thing they could do at this time - they were taking notes.

Though still downcast from their thoughts about Dumbledore, Harry and Dudley soon found themselves caught up in the infectious exuberance the redheads exuded. Even Ron, who kept glancing around and sighing dramatically, couldn't resist the urge to tease Harry about Ginny. He then turned to Dudley. "So, you meet anyone at school we can tease you about?" he asked.

This caused harry to suddenly fall to the floor, belly laughing so hard his sides hurt and he found it hard to breathe. Dudley, on the other hand, turned beet red, and started stammering. "I couldn't! No, you don't understand, I'm not like that!"

This confused Ron. "Huh? You don't like girls?"

Finally managing to control himself for a second, Harry managed to gasp out, "He goes to Smeltings - an all-boys school!" before flopping on the floor again, cackling like a madman.

This pronouncement immediately started the twins and Ginny laughing, while Ron's ears turned red. "Err, sorry, mate. Didn't know that, umm..."

"What's all the fuss in here?" demanded Percy, who had come home for the feast. He had recently been promoted and was an assistant to the Minister, but still kept in touch and visited.

"You... don't wanna... know," wheezed Fred, or maybe George. The two were sprawled out in comfortable chairs, alternately laughing, and whispering joke ideas to each other.

Ron blushed even deeper. "I... I sorta said the wrong thing, not knowing, and I accidentally, um, cast aspersions on Dudley's... character. That's it, his character. And I already apologized, too," he added.

"Yeah, he did," hastily added Dudley.

Percy blinked. "Oh. Alright then." He turned to walk out, then paused. "His character?"

"Yep. My character," said Dudley with a blush and wide eyes.

"Right then. I'll... I'll just be in the other room. With a silencing charm up. And earmuffs on." And Percy left the room.

After a few minutes, Harry finalle managed to catch his breath on a more permanent basis. Taking his glasses off, he wiped his eyes. "Oh, I GOTTA tell Uncle Sirius THAT one," he chortled.

"NO!" cried Dudley, eyes wide. "Anything but that!"

"Anything?" said George, or maybe Fred. "Well, we DO happen to have some new inventions that need testing..."

"On second thought... ALMOST anything but that," admitted Dudley.

"Boys, Ginny, supper's ready!" came Molly Weasley's voice from the kitchen. And as usual with teenage appetites, all thought of misstatements and retributions vanished in the face of a good home cooked meal.

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A/N: Okay, I have to admit, it was downright WEIRD writing about how eager Harry was to see Dudley again. I mean, think about it, they were brothers for all intents and purposes, and closer than most, in this timeline. Definitely a healthier relationship than Canon Harry and Dudley's. On the other hand, Dudley now knows about Dumbledore's impending demise... By the way, this fic now has topped 120,000 hits and 380 reviews, WOO-HOO! 


	36. Chapter 36: Honor and Glory

Disclaimer: Dis is not something I Claim. It belongs to 'Er. 

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Honor and Glory

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'Bored,' came the thought.

"Bored," agreed the voice.

In a smooth, simultaneous moment, Harry Potter rose to his feet, and Hedwig swooped off her stand to rest on his shoulder. He sharply swiveled his head towards her, and raised one eyebrow. "Tag?"

'Tag!' agreed the snowy owl in his mind.

Taking smooth arcs as he turned, making sure not to dislodge Hedwig, Harry bolted down the stairs and stopped in the Den. "Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia! I'm flooing to the Burrow so Hedwig and I can go play flight tag!"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but not today!" came his Aunt's voice from the kitchen. "But you need to get cleaned up, there's something special going on tonight."

Owl and boy looked at each other, and blinked. "Special?"

Heavy footsteps trod the stairs behind him. "Remember at the award ceremony, my boy?" said Uncle Vernon. "I said keep your summer evenings free for a while?"

He nodded. "Is this what you meant? We're going somewhere?"

"Exactly. And it's a good thing Dudley is almost home from the gym, he needs to get ready as well."

Slightly confused, Harry shrugged. A glance at Hedwig, and she flew over to one of the windows and hooted. This caused Uncle Vernon to pause for a moment. "Harry... when did Hedwig's eyes turn green?" he asked, as he headed over to open the window for her.

"I'm not sure. It sorta happened over the first couple days after the High Bond ceremony," replied the young man.

"I... see," muttered the heavyset man. "Well, get going. You need to get yourself as gussied up as you can, this is a very important night tonight."

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Dudley reached up and tugged on his collar a bit. "Mum, it's a little warm in here. Can we at least take off our jackets?"

"No, dear, our ride will be here any minute to pick us up. Just be patient, Duddykins," she cooed, brushing nonexistent lint off his broad shoulders.

"We look like those old American film comedians, Laurel and Hardy," muttered Harry.

"Only 'cause you're so skinny," grunted Dudley.

"Or maybe 'cause you're the size of a car," grinned Harry.

A knock on the door interrupted their friendly banter. "They're here," said Uncle Vernon. "Well, off we go!"

The boys followed Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia outside, where their jaws promptly dropped. The man in the door was dressed in a Royal Marines dress uniform, with plenty of what the servicemen termed 'chest salad', or ribbons and medals. Behind him, they could see a positively huge limousine, with British flags waving from small flagpoles on the hood, and a seal they could not make out in the darkness. The man immediately snapped to attention and saluted. "We are prepared to depart, sir," he said in a crisp, efficient manner.

Dudley leaned over to Harry and started to say something. He closed his mouth, then opened it again, then closed it. Finally, he shrugged, and the four inhabitants of Number Four Privet Drive walked to the limousine, where the Marine opened the doors for them, and they entered.

Already inside was an immaculately dressed man. He had sharp features and eyes that darted over every inch of the four of them, before he finally nodded in approval. "Good evening, Mr and Mrs Dursley, Mr Potter. I am Albert Wainwright, and I will be your protocol assistant for this evening."

"Proto... who are we meeting, the Queen or something?" asked Dudley.

The man smiled in a quite predatory way. "Actually, yes," he responded brightly, "you ARE meeting the Queen."

"Wh... wh... wh... why?" the bulky young man managed to stammer out.

"Oh, two reasons, primarily. The first is the official awarding of the Queen's Gallantry Medal for your father, Mr Dursley." He nodded to Vernon, who sat up straighter than he had been. "The second, is that Her Majesty desires to meet with her Royal Cousin, and learn what sort of remarkable young man he really is. She has heard stories from your Ministry of Magic's Muggle Liaison, but would see him with her own eyes."

"R-royal Cousin?"

"Indeed," said Mr Wainwright, his eyes settling on Harry quite pointedly.

"Wow... Does... does this mean I have to call Harry 'M'lord' while we're there?"

Harry resisted the urge to punch his cousin in the shoulder, and blushed. "I hope not," he admitted.

"No, indeed," said the protocol assistant. "You are blood relations with Harry, and this is no longer the Middle Ages. However, you must remember to call Her Majesty 'Her Majesty'. Any other members of the Royal Family that may be present you will refer to as 'Your Royal Highness'. That, above all others, you must remember."

"Thank you, Mr Wainwright," said Aunt Petunia graciously. "is there likely to be anyone else besides the Royal Family in attendance?"

"Quite frankly, it's not likely. Besides Her Majesty, her husband may be in attendance. Prince Charles is currently in Portsmouth and thus will not attend, but it is possible that the Princes William and Harry may be present."

"Do... do THEY know about the Wizarding World?" asked Harry.

"Young man, the entire Royal Family knows about it. As, I believe, do most of the leaders of the more civilized nations." Mr Wainwright smiled in a slightly less fierce way than he had for Dudley. "And yes - they know about you. On at least one occasion, Prince Harry has been known to claim that he was named after you."

If Harry had blushed when Dudley had cracked about calling him 'M'lord', he was positively beet red, now. His jaw opened, and only a faint wheeze came out.

"Calm down, Harry," soothed Uncle Vernon. "It'll do you no good to hyperventilate before we get there."

Mr Wainwright sighed. "If it makes you feel better, Mr Potter, the odds are highly against such a thing. In the first place, if anyone would have been named after you it would have been their firstborn, as he came into this world not eight months after your name became a household word. And Prince Harry, himself, is not even really named Harry - his name is Henry Charles Albert David."

Harry let out a sigh of relief at this. He had learned to deal with this sort of attention and hero worship from his classmates, but to hear it from a Royal would be just too much.

The man nodded. "Now, we have some time before we reach Buckingham Palace, so please allow me to go over the details of what will occur..."

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Harry realized that if he could not fight the urge to stare, then it would be most polite to stare at the floor rather than the Royal Family. As had been suggested, the Queen was accompanied by Har - err, Henry and William, her grandchildren. William was about a year younger than Harry, while Henry was several years his junior. They had entered quietly, but with such presence that there could be no doubt as to who they were.

"Vernon Dursley, please step before the presence of Her majesty," called out Mr Wainwright in an eerie, toneless voice. Uncle Vernon had stepped forward, and stopped two paces away from the Queen, then dropped to a knee, his head bowed.

The queen's voice was strong, though it held the beginnings of the quavers of age. "Vernon Dursley, it has come to our attention that you performed many heroic actions on the night of an invasion of the school known as Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though unskilled in the ways of magic, and armed with a low-powered weapon, you managed to fend off a number of dark wizards, keeping thirty-two students of that esteemed establishment safe from harm.

"Furthermore," she continued, "you took action to prevent our Royal Cousin from being blindsided near the end of the battle. This, alone, would have earned you the award we are about to present you with." She motioned to her right, and a liveried man stepped forward with a medal on a pillow. Harry was surprised, as he did not know about Uncle Vernon stopping an ambush on him during the fight. The Queen continued with, "However..."

She glanced around, and smiled. "Stories have also reached our ears of how you have taken our Cousin into your home, and treated him with love and devotion as surely as if he had been your own son. You have raised him to be a noble, caring young man, who is a credit to his nation and his family. Thus, in addition to this award, we present you with our everlasting gratitude and respect."

Vernon had been coached by Mr Wainwright that, at this point, he was to rise, give his thanks, and bow at the waist, then accept the medal before returning to the other side of the hall. A table would be brought in, and a formal dinner would begin. However, the addition by Her Majesty about 'everlasting gratitude' stunned him, and for a moment he felt concerned about the state of his heart. Finally, he staggered to his feet. "I... I... your majesty, words cannot express my emotions at this moment. Thank you." He bowed, accepted the award, and returned to his family.

Dinner was a quiet, but sumptuous affair. The food was on par with nearly anything Harry had eaten before, even if he couldn't identify some of the dishes. He noticed both of the young princes darting glances his way and talking to each other, but decided that the look of his dinner must surely be as interesting as the taste.

Finally, dessert was served, and the Queen tapped her goblet gently with a fork before looking around the table at her own family, the assorted functionaries, and the Dursleys and Harry. "We would like this moment to propose a toast for two remarkable individuals." She raised her glass. "To Mr Vernon Dursley, and Mr Harry Potter!"

The table joined in, with considerably more volume than Harry or Uncle Vernon had expected. Both glanced at each other and blushed, but accepted the toast graciously.

"We would also request that, upon completion of desert, that our guests the Dursleys and our Cousin join us in the parlor for after dinner conversation," added the Queen. This had the overall effect of leaving all four of the guests from Privet Drive quite stunned.

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Riding home much later that evening, Dudley kept glancing at Harry, grinning, and shaking his head. Finally the young wizard couldn't take it any more, and barked out, "What?"

His cousin's face threatened to split his face in two. "Just thinking about how to tell my friends at school about having dinner with the Queen."

Uncle Vernon frowned. "Careful, Dudley. Such things are best left unmentioned, or else you could get a big head from it all."

"Too late," chuckled Harry. "Though it does fit the rest of him."

"Harry!" scolded Aunt Petunia, then added "Dudley, stop it!" as he tried to get his smaller and quicker cousin in a headlock for a good noogie.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," they intoned in unison.

Mr Wainwright, who accompanied them home, only laughed. "I had an older brother, myself, and I dare say we acted much like these two."

As the car stopped, and their driver opened the doors to let them out, Harry noticed their neighbor out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting at her window, which was opened a bit to try to hear the goings-on outside. She was a nosy one, so he thought he'd give her something to REALLY talk about. Winking at the driver, he turned back to the darkened interior of the limousine and, in a voice louder than strictly necessary, said, "Thank you for assisting us, Mr Wainwright. Her Majesty's hospitality was an amazing thing."

Guessing his intent, the protocol assistant stepped out of the limousine, and bowed to him. "I shall pass on your words to Her Majesty. And I must admit, from what I could perceive, she was most impressed with the lot of you."

Aunt Petunia blushed. "Thank you, Mr Wainwright. Good night!"

Uncle Vernon, Dudley, and Harry all shook his hand, and he kissed Petunia's hand. "It was a privilege," he said. "Good night!" With that, he got back in the car, and drove away.

Their neighbor didn't even stop to watch them go into their house before rushing away from her window and dialing the telephone.

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"So... what did you and the Queen talk about," teased Ginny.

It was three days later, and Harry was at the Burrow for some flight tag with Hedwig, Ron, and Ginny. He had told them about his meeting with the Queen, but let Ron assume it was strictly for Uncle Vernon's award. They had subtly been planting hints in his mind for weeks and weeks, but didn't think he was quite ready for the truth, yet.

Harry grinned back at his redheaded girlfriend. "She tried to convince me to run off with her. You know, leaving you to pick up the pieces with Prince Phillip."

"Grrr," she growled, swatting at his arm. "Don't be a prat!"

"Hey! Why does everyone have to swat me on /that/ arm all the time?" he complained.

"Stop being a prat and your arm will stop being swatted," came a voice from the ground not far below them.

"MIONE!" roared Ron, who promptly swooped down to the ground and swept her up in a hug that would have made his mother proud, before giving her a sound kiss. "Your vacation's over already?" he asked.

She blushed. "Actually... no. It seems the hotel is run by wizards, and they let me borrow a little floo powder for a quick visit when they found out who I was."

"You mean when they found out you were a witch?" asked Ginny.

She blushed even deeper. "Actually... no. When they found out I was Hermione Jane Granger, actually."

"Huh?" asked Ron with a considerable display of intelligence.

Tilting her head down to cover her eyes, she started rummaging in her purse. "It... it seems that a lot of us who fought at Hogwarts have become... well, rather well known." She came out with a handful of cards, slightly larger than a Chocolate Frog Famous Wizard card, and passed them out. "Outside the UK, it seems that Drooble's Best Blowing Gum comes with these, among others."

Harry stared at the picture, and idly wondered who could have possibly taken it. He almost didn't recognize himself, or Dumbledore next to him, as they strode down the halls of Hogwarts, tossing curses without breaking stride. He glanced on the back, and read aloud: "Professor Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter prove why it's a bad idea to attack the children of Britain"

Ron showed the one he had, which was of him, Hermione, and Neville blasting away from behind a hasty barricade as curses flew. Like Harry, he read the inscription on the back aloud. "Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom do their DADA teachers proud protecting fellow students."

"About ten of them show one of us - the four of us, that is," said Hermione. "There's about fifteen in all."

Ginny was confused. "How the HECK did they get these pictures?" she asked. The card she held showed her and Luna Lovegood flanking an injured student and helping him rise, while Colin Creevey was performing a shield charm to help protect them. "Colin's in some of these pictures, so he couldn't have taken them."

Handing the card back to Hermione with a sigh, Harry shrugged. "I guess we won't... waitaminute... Hermione, how small can a wizarding camera be made?"

She chewed on a lock of her hair for a second, then her eyes grew wide. "You don't think..."

He nodded. "I do think. Rita Skeeter is a beetle animagus. What if she performed a Shrinking charm on a wizarding camera, then became a beetle, and started flying around the school during the battle?"

"But why would she be there in the first place?" asked Ron. "And why sell these pictures to Drooble's?" He then searched both the picture and the back of the card he still held for a photo credit.

Hermione nodded. "It's not likely Rita would do that, especially since her coverage of your fight in Little Hangleton won her the Taliesin Magical Journalism award."

"Someone in an invisibility cloak, then?" suggested Ginny.

"Very likely," said Hermione. "But who?"

"Dennis Creevey!" declared Ron. "Finally found the photo credit - it was in the decorative border here!"

"No way!" shouted Ginny. "That little runt was supposed to be in Gryffindor Tower, out of the fighting! Colin is going to be furious," she declared.

Ron looked again at the card he held, and his eyes sparkled. "Say, Mione... ever thought about becoming an animagus?"

"Well... once or twice, why?" she asked.

He leaned in close, and whispered in her ear, "Because in this photo, you look like a fierce lioness, protecting her cubs."

She giggled, and whispered back. "Her mate, you mean."

As they started to draw even closer for a good kiss, Harry interrupted. "Okay, come on, back to the Burrow. Let's show your mum these cards. But NOT the ones with me in them," he hastily added.

Ginny gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Sometimes you're too humble for your own good, Harry."

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Darkness. He had always heard his parents say there was a light at the end of the tunnel, being muggleborn, and thought that meant there should be something more than darkness here. He had done so much evil in his life, he fully expected that light to be the lambent glow of hellfire. Not that he cared much, however - hell was just another hierarchy, and he could scrabble his way to power there, too.

"You must decide," came a voice, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Decide? Decide what?" he demanded sharply.

"Hell on Earth as a roaming spirit... or eternity in Hell as a damned soul."

"On EARTH!" he shouted. "I'll accept being a ghost, if it means I may serve the Master one more time!"

And there was light. And Peter Pettigrew cackled, for it was not good.

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: I have no clue how an actual dinner with the Queen would go - I just puled that scene out of an interesting section of my brain. And now over 130,000 hits and over 400 reviews, yay!

And Pettigrew is back - so to speak. There is a darkness coming around the corner, will Harry and his friends be ready? Or has the better life they led here made them too soft to survive?


	37. Chapter 37: Ghosts of the Past

Disclaimer: Blah blah notmine blah blah JKR rules blahblah BUY THE BOOKS!

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Ghosts of the Past

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"This is dedication! This is loyalty! THIS is what you ALL must be!" thundered a high cold voice. It carried across a cavernous, ornate room filled with curios and antiques of a bygone era, all painstakingly maintained and polished.

More than twenty men and women quivered as they beheld their Lord, and the diaphanous figure that wafted beside him. Neither one could be said to be truly human anymore - one was something so much more, and the other... was a spirit and nothing more. Behind them, forty more stood motionless, watching what occurred.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, known better to the Wizarding World under his /nom de guerre, 'Voldemort', swept around the room, looking at every one of those twenty or so as he did. "Loyalty beyond the grave! Loyalty beyond death itself! THAT is what I require of you/In dedicato ultra articulo mortis!"

Some quailed at that pronouncement, beliving it to be an incantation, rather than a simple Latin quote. One, however, simply nodded, and faced the Dark Lord directly. "And so it shall be, my Lord."

Voldemort immediately stopped, then rushed forward with nearly inhuman speed, stopping only inches away. "Is that so? Will you indeed return to my service if you are ripped untimely from your Master's service?" he hissed.

The spectral form of Peter Pettigrew drifted alongside the mortal man. "I know this one, my Lord. Knew him from school, I did," he cackled, a chilling sound from an ephemeral throat.

Hands too large for the man who possessed them, bearing long, knobby, white fingers reached up and gently touched the man's forehead. To his credit, the Death Eater neither flinched nor froze. After a moment, the spidery appendages pulled away, and a wicked, tooth-filled smile crackled its way across Voldemort's red-eyed visage. "Indeed. You actually believe you would be willing to do this."

With only a moment's hesitation the man bowed at the waist slightly. "Yes, my Lord. I have nothing left but my own power, and my devotion to you - my wealth is gone, and my son a traitor. It is with great joy that I heard you had seen fit to remove me from Azkaban."

"Let us test this, shall we?" lilted Voldemort in almost a playful way. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Rather than try to dodge, the man seemed almost to thrust his chest out to meet the spell. Seconds later, he realized it had not been meant for him when he heard the sounds of someone behind him slipping to the floor. He almost deflated as he returned to his usual posture.

This impressed the Dark Lord. "Indeed, you were more than willing. You met your death with your eyes open, eager to prove your loyalty. Avery! Give him back his wand!"

One of the men in the back stepped forward, and handed the bold Death Eater a wand with a most unusual handle, then a long hollow tube. The Death Eater slipped the wand into the tube and twisted, then let one end touch the floor as an elegant walking stick.

"Welcome back into my service, Lucius Malfoy."

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Sirius Black sauntered up the path, and knocked on the back door of the Burrow. He whistled, and had gotten perhaps three bars through his personal favorite tune for the Hogwarts Anthem, when the door opened. "Sirius, what brings you by?" she asked with honest surprise. "Come in, come in," she invited.

"Actually, I need to speak with Ron and Ginny, if you don't mind," he answered. As he stepped inside, he was confronted with a most unexpected site. "Tonks?"

The normally ebullient metamorphomagus was looking quite subdued. Even her hair was a limp, mousy brown. In fact, Sirius thought he could make out tear tracks. "Hi, cuz," she said, and stepped up to him and huggd him.

The fact that she held the hug slightly longer than she normally would gave him the last clue he needed. He pulled her tighter, and said, "What did he do? I'll beat the tar out of him, I will."

"NO!" she barked, then settled down and lay her head against his chest. "It's not what he did... it's what he won't do." she confessed with a sniffle.

Inside, the animagus groaned. "Martyr syndrome again?" She nodded in response. "Moony, Moony, Moony," he muttered, "whatever am I going to do with you?"

After a moment, they released each other, and they sat down at the Weasley table. "I notice you're not as clumsy when youre sad, Tonks," he tried to tease. She only sniffled, and nodded. 'This might take a while,' he thought to himself, not even noticing Molly leave the room.

Fred and George were coming down the steps, when they were intercepted by their mother. However, they were down far enough to see the heart-to-heart between the cousins. "Mum, why are Tonks..."

"...and Sirius..."

'...here?"

Molly shook her head. "Never you mind, boys. I need you to go get Ron and Ginny, please. Once he's done with Tonks, he wants to speak with them."

Minds already spinning a thousand possible reasons why, the twins only nodded, and continued up the steps. Sighing, Molly turned, and placed herself so hat she could see Sirius's face if need be, but was relatively unobtrusive and out of immediate earshot. She then thought about what Tonks had just finished telling her when Sirius had arrived, and thanked providence that he had arrived when he had. No matter how much the auror appeared to trust Molly, Sirius was family.

Green flashed in the corner of her eye, and, "Mrs Weasley!" came a voice from the fire. She turned, to see Harry there, outlined in lambent green flames. His expression was neutral, almost bordering on grim, something she had rarely seen.

"Harry, dear, how are you?" she asked pleasantly, stepping closer to the fireplace.

"I'm well, thanks," he answered, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Listen, could you tell Sirius that I'll be meeting them there? I'm going with Professor McGonegall, but she's continuing on to Diagon Alley."

"I'll pass along the message, sweetheart," she acknowledged, wondering exactly what he could be talking about.

"Thanks," he said. "Goodbye!" And his head vanished from the flames, which resumed their normal color.

Turning back to the kitchen, she glanced in and saw that a little color had drifted back into Tonks's hair. It was a little redder than before, at least, which she took as a good sign. Sirius caught her eye, and nodded. Nodding back, she returned to the kitchen. Leaning down, she put an arm around the younger woman's shoulders. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better," she said.

Tonks stood, and gave the older woman a full hug. "Thank you, Molly. And thanks for listening, earlier."

"That's what friends are for, my dear," she said as she stepped back and eyed Tonks critically. Color back in her cheeks? Check. Eyes have more life in them? Check. Hair a seemingly random shade of the rainbow? Not quite yet, but getting there. "I'm guessing you have some things to think about now, don't you?"

Tonks gave a half smile. "I certainly do, Molly. And a certain studious werewolf is going to find I can be a persistant little witch if I want to be. And I meant that the Muggle way," she added.

"H'lo, Tonks! H'lo, Sirius!" Ron called from the kitchen doorway. Ginny was still coming down the stairs, but stepped up right behind him when she got down. "What's up?"

Sirius turned to his slowly cheering cousin. "Feel up to a trip to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?" he asked with a grin.

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Roughly half an hour later, a motley group was gathered in a dark London street, facing a very grim building. "Right now, it's only got Muggle Repelling charms on it. But I'm certain Albus and Filius will want to change that," said Sirius. He fumbled in his pocket, then withdrew a large, ornate key. "Friends and family, welcome to the core of my inheritance. Welcome to Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he said, tapping the door with the key.

The door opened, and severalof the group felt almost queasy as the peculiar psychic stench assaulted them. They could all /feel/ the darkness here, almost as if it felt them, as well. "Isn't THIS a pleasant place?" quipped Tonks.

"Well," said Harry, "I can see why your brother might have hidden the... locket... here. That thing probably feels right at home."

"SHHHH!" admonished Sirius. "You'll wake up Mum's portrait!"

"Portrait?" asked Ron.

"DEFILERS!" screamed a voice that was almost unearthly shrill."MISBEGOTTEN WRETCHES THAT BEFOUL THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK!"

Sighing, the animagus nodded. "Yes. Mum's portrait," he said, raising his voice so they could hear him over the nearly painful screaming. He trotted inside, and began struggling to close the curtains that hung over the portrait. "Ron, Harry, gimme a hand, here!" he said.

The woman in the painting was positively hideous. Unnaturally aged, she drooled, and spattered her spittle as she yowled. Privately, Harry thought it looked like she was still alive, but hidden behind a pane of glass whih her spit dripped down. Her yellowed eyes rolled as she continued her invectives, including 'mudbloods', 'blood traitors', 'mutants', and others, some so horrible one would not expect a woman of her supposed breeding to even know what half of the terms meant.

After a few minutes, they managed to clase the curtain, and noticed other paintings covering the walls down the hall. Some had added their voices to the cacaphony, but quieted down when Walpurga Black, as the plaque under the portrait identified her, was silenced. One, however, stayed silent, and simply stared. After a moment, he seemed to nod. "I see you have returned, Sirius," he said.

Sirius nodded to the painting. "Boys, this here is Phineas Nigellus Black. He's my Great Grandfather, and a former Headmaster of Hogwarts."

The figure scowled at the youngsters. "And don't forget it," he sneered at them.

Leaning towards them, the animagus added in a low voice, "Ol' Phinny was one of the most feared and hated Headmasters Hogwarts has eve had. Only reason he's halfway agreeable now is because of Dumbledore. See, all the portraits of past Headmasters hang in the headmasters' office at Hogwarts, and they're bound by oaths to assist in the runing of the school."

Harry nodded. "I met Headmaster Black during my sessions with Grampa Albus," he reminded the Auror. Approaching the painting, he gave it a faint bow. "Good morning, Headmaster."

Sniffing slightly, Phineas Nigellus nodded faintly. "And to you, Potter."

This stunned Sirius slightly. "Phineas, Harry here is everything you professed to hate - he's a halfblood son of what you call a blood traitor. Why are you being so cordial to him?"

"Because the boy has a solid head on his shoulders," said the portrait. "He's too open and accepting for my liking, but he has his other priorities in order. That, and he has saved the life of the current headmaster on more than one occasion."

Harry gawked. "More than one? I mean, I remember the time he came back with his burned arm, but the second time I can think of it was Snape, not me, who saved his life."

"You will understand later," said Phineas. "Now if you will excuse me, I believe the Headmaster wishes to speak with me. I shall be in my frame in his office." He nodded his head to the gathered wizards and witches, then stepped off to the side, vanishing.

"Well, that was unexpected," said Ginny. "I wonder what he meant?"

"Who knows," said Ron. "Maybe one of the Death Eaters you stunned in the battle was about to kill Professor Dumbledore or something."

"We can worry about that later," huffed Hermione. "Right now, we need to find that locket."

"Right," said Sirius. "And I know who to ask, though I don't like it." He stepped slightly away from the others, and took a deep breath. "KREACHER!" he bellowed.

The hideous lump that answered the auror's call was something that Harry thought could barely be called a House elf. He was used to Dobby, Winky, and the various House Elves at Hogwarts, who usually responded with smiles and joy at the prospect of work. This... thing, this 'Kreacher', was a scowling lump of twitches and foul mood. He looked old, as if his skin was three sizes too big for his wizened frame, and he couldn't find a tailor to take it in for him. "What does Master want?" he snarled, then started muttering about blood traitors and dishonor under his breath.

Sirius glared at the thing. "Kreacher, I order you to bring me any locket that my brother Regulus may have brought here, and I order you to do so immediately. You may not refuse!" he barked.

"SIRIUS!" exclaimed Hermione. "How can you treat this poor old elf so?" She knelt down in front of Kreacher, and said, "Please don't be insulted by him," she cooed.

She was rewarded with a huge gob of spittle directly into her face. "Filthy mudblood best not even look at Kreacher or Kreacher will bite her nose of, he will. Then maybe mudblood's nose would poison Kreacher, so he could join his family on the wall!"

"Eugh! What in the world?" Ginny asked as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and helped hermione clean her face off.

"Seems Aunt Elladora, Phineas's sister, started a tradition. When a house Elf gets to old to carry a tea tray, the Black Family would cut their head off and mount it on the wall. Kreacher, there, wants nothing more than for me to continue the tradition, but I won't kill even him." Sirius sighed. "It's things like that, that kept me from living here, even after Harry found out about magic."

"I wondered why you lived at Privet Drive," intoned Ron. "Well, besides Harry and all."

The house elf had grudgingly left at this point to accomplish the task Sirius had set before him. The children, Tonks, and Sirius sat in the entry hall, chatting away. "Oh, by the way," asked Sirius to Ron and Ginny, "you wouldn't happen to know your Grandmother's name, would you?"

Ron said, "Which one? Mum's mum or Dad's mum?"

"Either one."

Ginny piped up. "Mum's mum was Anna Prewett, and Dad's mum was Cedrella Weasley."

"Well, whaddya know?" grinned Sirius. "Looks like we're cousins!"

"What?" said Harry.

"Ayup," admitted the auror. "Cedrella Weasley was once Cedrella Black, one of my Mum's cousins."

"So can we call you Uncle Sirius like Harry does?" grinned Ginny.

"Absolutely!"

"ABOMINATION!" All of a sudden, the curtains in front of Mrs Black's portrait flew open, and she began howling again. "NO BLOOD TRAITOR SHALL CLAIM THE LAST SCION OF THE HOUSE OF BLACK AS A RELATIVE! UNCLEAN FILTH, YOU SHOULD BE WIPED FROM THE FACE OF THE PLANET!"

"Crap," said Ron elegantly.

"Allow me," came the voice from Phineas's frame. He had apparantly returned from Hogwarts. "I have just about had enough of that woman." He then stormed off one side of his frame.

Tonks, still facing the woman's portrait, had the best view. He strode in from one side, and suddenly hit the old woman on the side of her head. "Silence, you misbegotten daughter of a tavern wench! You may be my grand daughter, but that means I still am your superior!"

"Wh... wh... what?"

He struck her again. "I am sick and tired of this. For more than fourteen years you have wailed and moaned about how the 'noble and most ancient house of Black' was no more, because the only survivor to bear the name was, in your opinion, a Blood Traitor. Now you will be silent or I will silence you."

"How?" she challenged. "We're both portraits!"

"Like this," he said, and pulled out a painting of a and, and wiggled it in a complex pattern. All of a sudden, the portrait simply fell from the wall. Turning to face Tonks, he said, "Great Granddaughter, could you please take this frame out and chop it up for kindling?" Several more thumps were heard off in another room. "Oh, it appears this was tied in with the spell holding the elf heads up in the study. Might want to do something about them, too, they'll start to rot in a few days."

"How... You're just a portrait, how did you..." began Tonks.

"Simple. A Headmaster's portrait has special priveleges. Now, if you will excuse me," he said, stepping around his still stunned granddaughter and returning to his own frame.

Sirius, meanwhile, was handing various lockets over to Harry, who kept shaking his head. "Nope, not that one. Not that one either." They were interrupted by a scream of horror from the study. "You think Kreacher noticed the other elf heads just fell from the wall?"

The House Elf popped back in front of them, empty handed, and turned on the portrait of Phineas Nigellus with a face shaking with rage. "The... Mistress! You! Ancestors! KREACHER WILL DESTROY!" He raised his hand, and began to use that wird House Elf magic.

"NO!" shouted Sirius. This froze Kreacher in place. "I ORDER you to never cause harm to any portrait in this house, or allow harm to come to one except by the specific direction of myself, is that clear!" he shouted.

Face still contorted, Kreacher struggled with himself, then threw himself on the floor, wailing. "Master Blood traitor gave Kreacher an order, and Kreacher hates it! Hates them! Hates them ALLL!"

Harry leaned over to Hermione, and whispered, "We hates hobbitses! Hates them forever!" The bushy haired witch bit back a snort, and started fighting a laugh.

"What's that, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"Lord of the Rings," he said. "Gollum."

"Ooooh," she said. "Tolkein. You know he was part of the Prewett family, right? He's our fourth cousin or something like that."

"Kreacher! Quit throwing a tantrum and continue finding us all of those lockets," said Sirius. With a scowl, the distorted thing vanished again.

"I never realized how intermixed the pureblood families were," noted Harry.

"Yep," said Sirius. "The so-called 'dark' pureblood families, like the Blacks and the Malfoys, are even worse. At least the Prewetts, Weasleys, Longbottoms, Bones, and the like are much more vibrant and see nothing wrong with marrying a non-pureblood."

A deliberately loud CRACK distracted them. "Last one," snarled Kreacher, handing a heavy gold locket to Sirius by its chain.

Harry looked at it, seeing the intricate filligree and the embossed, serpentine 'S' on the front. "That... that's it. R.A.B. was definitely Regulus A Black."

Sirius nodded, and held it out away from him like it could explode at any second. "Right then. Grampa Phineas, could you please let Headmaster Dumbledore know we're on our way to meet him?"

"Of course," noted the portrait. "And don't be so scared of the thing. It would take weeks to possess you, you know. Days, if you were one of those children."

Ginny shuddered, and her eyes grew wide. Then Harry's arm was around her, and his voice in her ear. "I told you that you were stronger than you thought," he said. "It took that diary months and months before it could fully possess you, and Phineas there said it should have taken days. I'm proud of you, Gin."

She nodded, and pulled herself up to her full though unimpressive height. "Then let's get going," she said with a little more force than needed. "We have a horcrux to destroy."

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: Okay, so Malfoy's already out of prison, Wormtail is back with Voldemort, and the appearance of Mrs Black and Kreacher will be mercifully short in this fic.

A lot of my information about the Black Family came from the Harry Potter Lexicon. My comment about Cedrella Weasley is pure conjecture - according to the Black Family Tree, Cedrella Black was blasted from the tapestry for marrying a Weasley, and is about the right age to be Arthur's mother. On the other hand, Lucretia (Black) Prewett, sister to Sirius's father, is also about the right age to be Molly's mother... but while Cedrella is blasted fromthe tree and thus nothing known, Lucretia is still on the tree and yet no children are noted for her... 


	38. Chapter 38: Death and Beyond

Disclaimer: Don't sue, I'm broke! You'll get nothing but a rubber check!

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Death and Beyond

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"Are you sure we should tell him?"

"He must know. I owe him no less."

"But is he ready to know?"

"He must be. If he is not, we may lose him to despair."

zzzzzzz

Harry opened his final birthday present with a wicked grin at Ginny. He had saved hers for last both because it was the most important to him, whatever it was, and to tease her and make he more anxious by the minute. He had gotten the ends of the wrapping paper carefully undone, then suddenly stopped. "Are you SURE I should open this, Gin?" he teased.

The fiery redhead, meanwhile, felt that she had enough. "Open it, you bloody great prat or I'll bat-bogey hex you!" she snarled, though she was fighting a smile.

"Yipe!" Harry leaned away and feigned terror. "But if I've got bats flying out of my nose, how will I be able to see what the present is?"

Ginny opened and closed her mouth a couple times, and the twins laughed out loud. "SCORE! Point for Harry!" chortled Fred.

Laughing, he tore the rest of the paper off, and looked at the box. It was simple and made of cardboard, so he opened it, as well. Inside was a vial filled with a silvery liquid. "Gin... is this what I think it is?" he asked in awe.

She smiled and nodded, then snuggled up to him. "It most certainly is, Mr Potter."

He couldn't resist, and kissed her in front of her whole family. "We'll have to look at this later, luv," he whispered to her.

Lupin watched history repeat itself in front of his eyes. Of course they had no idea that Lily had given James a vial of her memories of their first date on his birthday, shortly before that terrible night. But this time, he swore nothing would prevent these two from living the long, happy lives they deserved. Thes thoughts reminded him of something else he needed to speak to Harry about. "Before you do that, Cub, can Sirius and I speak to you in the kitchen?"

The Boy Who Lived followed his two uncles, where Sirius cast a privacy spell. "Pup, we know you have probably already figured this out, but we wanted to give you plenty of advance warning."

"Advance warning?" he asked.

"Yes," said Remus. "You see, as you know, a wizard is considered to be Of Age at seventeen in the Wizarding World, not eighteen. And that means that, next year... you will come into your ful inheritance from your parents."

Harry sighed. "I... I know. There was a bit of an incident with Dobby last year that led to me finding out. That and some really good cheese sandwiches."

The adults glanced at each other, both mouthing 'Cheese sandwiches?', then Sirius shook his head. "Well, at least you know. I... I also wanted to warn you of something. It may not occur for many, many years, but I had to do it."

This caught Lupin by surprise. "Do what?"

"Go get Dudley and bring him in here, too, he needs to be here for this."

Shrugging, Harry popped out of the kitchen. He tapped Dudley on the shoulder, and motioned for him to follow. The two cousins ignored the questioning glances as they returned to the kitchen. "So what''s this about, Sirius?"

The older man took a deep breath. "Well... with Voldemort back, and me being one of the lead Aurors, there's a very good chance I won't see the end of this war. So I wanted to prepare."

Dudley's face fell, Lupin looked stricken, and Harry simply shook his head. "Don't say that, Uncle Sirius!"

"He... he's pretty much got the right of it," admitted Remus.

"Ayup. So, I wanted to let you three know now... well, that the vast bulk of the Black Family Fortune is currently mine. And if... if I end up dying before I get old, so to speak, the bulk of that will pretty much be split evenly between the three of you." Sirius looked at them all, one at a time. "A good bit will be going to Andromeda, Ted, and Nymphadora, while another nice chunk will be coming to roost here with the Weasleys. But you three... Remus, you're my brother as much as James was, and a better one I couldn't find. Harry, Dudley... neither of you are flesh and blood to me, but a wise man once said 'you love me, that means you're family'. I couldn't be prouder of the two of you if you were my own. And I love all three of you."

The werewolf's eyes started to shimmer with unshed tears. "Look, you big mutt, we'd rather have you with us than all the galleons in Gringotts!"

"I know. But that might not be possible. Especially since... well, I'm not supposed to let you know yet, but I will. Harry, almost all of the Dementors abandoned Azkaban last week. The next day, about twenty Death Eaters, including the ones captured at Hogwarts, were broken out by an assault. The Ministry's keeping it hushed up, but they're out there. MacNair, Malfoy, even 'dear' cousin Bella. They're free."

"No!" said Harry. "Then without Azkaban, how will we stop the Death Eaters? How will we keep ahold of any prisoners?"

"Right now, the plan is to use an old castle that used to belong to the Crouch family, with triple layer anti-apparition wards," said Sirius. "Since old Barty and Barty Junior died, and neither one had a will, the property reverted to the Ministry."

"Then we just keep alert. 'Constant Vigilance', like Moody... the fake one, I mean... taught us," grumbled Harry.

"Speaking of Moody, he wants to meet you," Sirius noted. "Seems a certain organization named for a bird on fire has started using Grimmauld Place as their headquarters, and he and ol' Phinny have been talking about you."

"They have?"

"Ayup. And Moody doesn't believe some of the things Grampa Phineas has said about you, so he wants to see for himself." He grinned. "Don't worry. The real Mad-Eye Moody is a lot scarier than the fake one was."

Dudley grinned. "Mad-Eye Moody? Sounds like a completely awesome name! Can I meet him?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Not unless you want to be lectured about wand safety and CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The shout startled them all, helping them all forget the earlier, grimmer conversation. "Good thing the privacy spell was up, Mooney, that would have startled everyone in the other room!"

"One does one's best," Remus admitted.

"Okay, kids, go on back into the other room. Your fuzzyfather and I will be in here just a little while longer," said Sirius.

"Right. Just don't take too long," said Harry, "Mrs Weasley won't serve dinner until everyone's sitting down!"

"And people say I think with my stomach!" joked Dudley.

"Hey, I'm just thinking of the safety of everyone in there with a hungry Ron. We might lose one or two if you guys take too long."

"I'll remember that," said the auror. Once the two teenagers had left the room, he turned on his best friend. "Mooney, Mooney, Mooney. You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Martyr Syndrome. Tonks. Need I say more?"

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Shortly after the birthday dinner was finished, a head popped into the fireplace, startling some of the guests. It was Dumbledore, and he was smiling. "Good evening, everyone! Molly, would you mind terribly if I dropped in for a visit with my, err, 'grandsons'?"

"Heavens, no, come on in!" she insisted. "I expected as much and saved you a plate."

"Excellent, Molly. But I must warn you, I'm not flooing. Fawkes is bringing me."

Moments later, a bright flash of orange flames burst into existance in the Weasley living room. It died down only moments later, to reveal Dumbledore clutching onto the tail feathers of Fawkes. The beautiful phoenix immediately flew over to harry and Ginny, who were sharing a chair, and let himself be stroked and scratched. "Grampa Albus!" exclaimed the happy birthday boy.

Dumbledore simply stood there and looked at him. "I... I hate to admit this, but could someone please assist me to a chair? My strength is not what it once was."

A dozen people leaped from their seats to assist, including Harry and Ginny. This caused Fawkes to squawk, but he quieted down when he realized why. Dudley ended up being the first to reach the wizened wizard, and helped him to an empty chair near both himself and Harry. "Thank you, my dearboy," said the Headmaster. "I have come... because I have news I must pass along to all of you. About my... condition."

"Is... is that why you didn't floo?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, indeed," he admitted. "It seems... that I have not much time left in this world."

Everyone froze, and Harry's mouth went dry. He felt Ginny squeeze his arm, and took strength from her. "How... how much time?" he asked, saying what was on everyone's mind.

The old man sighed. "Perhaps two weeks, according to Poppy." He turned and looked at Ginny. "Dear Ginevra, about the only promise for the future I can make at this point is that I will be here for your birthday in a week and a half. No other guarantees may be made."

"You... you can't be serious!" protested Dudley. "Weeks? That's all?" A tear began to trickle down his cheek.

"Alas, I am Albus. Sirius is standing in the kitchen doorway," replied the old wizard with the customary twinkle in his eye. "But, old jokes aside, I am telling what must be. Within two weeks, perhaps three at the most, I will have succumbed to the curse I sustained earlier in the year."

Everyone was silent, stunned by the announcement. Nobody even laughed at the old chestnut about Sirius' name. A few moments later, the youngsters all rose, as if by some hidden signal. Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Fred, George, Dudley, and Harry all looked at each other, and nodded, then arrayed themselves around their professor. They leaned in, and as a group, took him into a hug.

The cheerful facade of Albus Dumbledore nearly shattered at this display of love. Tears trickled down his face, and he reached out and touched each one in turn. "Dear, dear children, do not be afraid for me. For the well-ordered mind, death is but the next great adventure. Besides, I am old. And it is long time the torch was passed," he noted, looking directly at Harry as he said this.

"Not yet!" protested Harry, burying his face in the beard he tucked into his belt. "It's too soon, Grampa Albus! It's too damn soon!" A low, mournful hoot carried across the room, from where Hedwig sat with Errol and Pigwidgeon.

"Harry!" said Aunt Petunia and Mrs Weasley at the same time.

"No, no, Pet and Molly, it's quite alright. I fear I have destroyed the happy mood of this occasion, so he is entitled to less than gentlemanly language right now." Taking Harry by the shoulders, he looked into the boy's eyes. "Harry, listen. You know all that I may teach you about your task, and you have gathered to yourself a loyal band of friends and family. I only ask that you finish your schooling before actively going after Voldemort. Destroy his horcruxes, yes, but you must finish school before you face him. Otherwise, I fear you may not have the strength to defeat him."

"I... okay, Grampa Albus. But if he comes to me, I can't make any promises!" he declared.

This made Dumbledore laugh. "Very well, harry, that is a good enough compromise. Now... what was this I heard about an extra helping of a dinner from the inestimable Molly Weasley? I'm feeling more than a bit peckish at the moment."

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Everything looked... different, on this side of things, thought the spirit for the thousandth time. He floated through walls that would have stopped mortals, yet had to skirt around fields of concentrated magic. He nodded happily to the passing Bloody Baron, and continued towards the Ravenclaw Common Room.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it," whispered the Grey Lady with a smile as he arrived.

"And leave a damsel awaiting my arrival? How unchivalrous!" he said. "Never let it be said that Sir Nicholas did not keep his appointments!" He bowed carefully, making sure his head did not tip off as he did so.

The Grey Lady giggled. "Sir Nicholas, how much longer do you think we can keep this up before someone notices?"

He took her in his arms, noting that it was as close as he could come to feeling anything, and smiled at her. "Who cares? The Bloody baron knows, and it appears we have his approval."

She frowned slightly at him. "You do realize that if we ever find ourselves completely happy, we won't... well, BE here any more."

He nodded. "I have been here for hundreds of years, milady. There is a waiting list to be a house ghost here, perhaps it's time we did move on. Besides, from what I understand, we will still be able to look in from time to time."

"We will?"

"Yes, milady. Surely you noticed your predecessor peeking in one hundred and forty years ago, during the previous Triwizard Tournament?"

"So thats who that was. And I assume that was YOUR predecessor a year and a half ago?" she asked.

"Alas... no. That was the parents of young Potter. Of course, only we could see them, but they were so very proud of him... and the friendships he made." Nearly Headless Nick smiled down at the ghost he held in his arms. "Now, milady, shell we be off for a tour of the gardens?"

"Of course, milord," she responded. Stepping away, she took his hand, and let him lead the way.

Being summer, the gardens weren't as romantic to the ghosts as they would have been in winter. They had too many leaves and flowers, and were simply too alive. However, they were happy. Only lingering doubts kept them from that perfect happiness the Grey Lady had mentioned.

Suddenly, motion from one side caught their attention. "What was that, Sir Nicholas?" asked the Grey Lady.

"I don't know. Wait here, I'll find out." Drawing a spectral rapier, useless against nearly anything but giving him a sense of confidence, he strode over to where he had seen the movement. It was something from this side of life, he was certain, so the rapier might not be less than useful after all.

"Well, well, well, a ghostly date," mocked a high-pitched, wheezing voice. "Who'da thought you had it in you, Sir Nicky?"

"You! But... but you were a Gryffindor! One of my own house! How could you..."

"Easy as this, Sir Nick. Goodbye!" challenged the voice once more.

It was when the Grey Lady started screaming that the mortal inhabitants rushed outside, only to find the unlifeless ghost of Nearly Headless Nick drifting on a nonexistant breeze.

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"What... what can be done for him, sir?" asked Harry.

Most of the OGL and the Order of the Phoenix had gathered at Hogwarts when they learned of the ghost's... condition, and almost all of them were completely flummoxed. Only Moody and Dumbledore seemed to know anything about what happened.

"Sorry, boy, but looks like nothing can be done. He was grabbed by a specter," growled the old Auror.

"A specter? Isn't that another word for a ghost?" asked Hermione.

"No, indeed," said Dumbledore. "A ghost is the soul of one who died, wrapped in a tiny amount of magic, usually tied to a sense of loss, grief, or work undone. A specter, on the other hand, has considerably more power, and is wrapped in hate and madness. They are far more formidable, though eventually they fade into normal ghosts. The Bloody Baron was once a specter."

"How did this... specter... do this? And is Sir Nicholas okay... wherever he is?" asked Cedric.

Cho glanced up from where she was consoling her house Ghost. "Cedric, keep it down a bit, I almost had her calmed down."

"Sorry," the Hufflepuff seeker said. "Anyway... his soul, it's not... gone, is it?"

Moody grumbled some more. "No, boy, it's not. But somehow the specter ripped him. He caused an injury to Sir Nick's astral body that tore the cawl - it basically made Sir Nick's soul finally reach whatever level of the afterlife he was meant for in the first place."

"So, basically... this specter 'killed' him?" asked Ron. He shook his head. "If a specter can kill a ghost, what can it do to a human being?"

"If the hate is great enough... the very same thing," admitted Dumbledore.

"What about Peeves? Is a poltergeist like a spector?" asked Fred, disturbed at the friendship he and his brother had with the mischevious spirit.

"No," interjected Professor McGonegall. "A poltergeist was never a living thing. Peeves is simply the result of generations of pranksters in these walls, and a little bit of magic wrapping itself around the idea of pranks. And as much as I hate to admit it, you two and the Marauders have considerably influenced him for the better - he was much more malicious before James, Sirius, and Remus arrived."

"Oh. Well, that's a relief," said George.

A few moments later, Cho came over to the group with the Grey Lady in tow. "So close," wailed the ghost, "so close..."

Dumbledore reached out and, muttering a spell to make his hands partially diaphanous, took her hand and patted it gently. "My dear, I realize it has been a very long time since you felt this sort of grief or loss. But Sir Nicholas was a good man, and a very good ghost. There is no doubt in my mind that he has reached Paradise.

The Grey Lady sniffled a bit. "I... I don't know if I can stay here, now," she admitted. "Perhaps I should return to the Tower."

"Ravenclaw Tower?" asked Cho.

"No... the Tower of London. Where... where I was killed," she admitted. "Anne Boleyn will once more haunt those halls," she said with a firmer voice.

"Anne Boleyn?" said Hermione in awe. "You... you were her?"

"Yes. I lost some of my strength in death... but Sir Nicholas was helping me find it again. Without him... without him, I cannot stay here."

"Of course, Your Majesty," demurred Dumbledore. "I only hope you are reunited with him when the time comes."

"Certainly not with that bastard, Henry," she snorted. She then drifted over to the spiritual 'body' of Nearly Headless Nick. "Goobye, my love," she said, kissing him gently on the lips. She then looked to the distance, and faded away.

"Professor?" interrupted Sirius.

"Yes?"

"How do we... bury him?"

Albus sighed. "His cawl, the astral form that housed his soul, will fade in time, perhaps a week or so. But I am sending a letter to all current and former Gryffindors, save those we know have turned to the dark, for a memorial to him in two days time."

Nodding, the various individuals made their way out. Watching them leave, Albus noticed Sirius had started drifting close to Hestia Jones. He smiled. Perhaps they would be good together, he admitted to himself - and it was always nice to see a little more love in the world.

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"Gone... gone... gone..." muttered Peeves in the Owlery. "T'ain't s'posed to be possible to kill a ghost," he sighed.

The Fat Friar was beside himself. "Both of them, gone... one to London, the other... Oh, poor Nicholas! Such pain it must have been!"

The Bloody Baron winced at both. "Enough. We shall grieve with the students when they arrive in a few days. For now... for now, we must consider their replacements."

"Not the next in line from each house?" asked the Fat Friar. "That's the way it's always been."

"No," answered the baron. "One among them may be the specter. And I know of such things. We must choose those we knew while we have been in our current roles, ones who did not have the hate in them to become specters."

Peeves drifted idly, upside-down. "Potters for the Gryffies? Bold and brave, they were."

The Fat Friar shook his head. "Both chose to enter paradise. They cannot be ghosts."

The Baron, however, looked a bit pensive. "Trust me... let us delay choosing a House ghost for Gryffindor. After all, I have not known those house members well at all. Ravenclaw, however - I say we accept Mister Adalbert Waffling. He is young enough, so to speak, to be recgnizable to the students, yet has had fifteen years of death to get used to being a ghost."

"But what about Perpetua Fancourt? She has only had five years, but she was a most exemplary Ravenclaw..." interjected the Fat Friar.

"Do any of them know any good jokes?" asked Peeves. And so the Council of Spirits lasted on into the night.

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Almost the entire school, including several Slytherins, showed up on the morning of Sir Nicholas's memorial. It had been agreed to be held not at Hogwarts, but at the Tower of London, so that the grey Lady could attend and see her 'children' one last time. The fact that Sir Nicholas's first death had been in the Tower, as well (for bollixing a spell intended to correct a young noblewoman's horrid overbite), made it equally significant.

Four days later, a very weak Albus Dumbledore managed to arrive at the Burrow for Ginny Weasley's birthday party. Despite the tears of those present, he managed to turn what would have become a mournful party into a celebration of youth and life.

And yet, not two days later, the curse-ravaged body of Albus Dumbledore finally gave out, and he entered into eternity in his own office, surrounded by those he loved.

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A/N: That bit about Peeves not really being a ghost is actually straight from JKR, herself, btw. And you have three guesses about who the specter is, and the first two dont count!

Now... who shall be the new house ghosts for Ravenclaw and Gryffindor? We shall see, we shall see... 


	39. Chapter 39: Shock and Fear

Disclaimer: Theft is theft. I didn't steal the characters and setting, I'm merely borrowing them.

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Shock and Fear

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Fleur stormed into Ginny's room, and slammed the door shut. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was breathing as hard as if she had just faced the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament again. "Ginny," she said, "HOW do you knock sense into a Weasley man?"

She looked up, rather surprised. "Well... to be honest, I usually use a bat-bogey hex. What did Bill do?"

The French girl sat down on the bed, facing the younger girl as she sat at her desk. "It is those scars. He says he does not deserve me anymore."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "The ones he got at the battle? Umm, they are pretty severe..."

"I don't care! I love him, and we were... were..." She broke down into tears, and buried her face in her hands.

Sighing, the petite redhead sat down next to her friend, putting her arm around the blonde girl. "Come on, come on. It's okay, he's just being stubborn, like all Weasleys." She felt a little awkward, as Fleur was four years older than her, but here she was coming to the younger witch for comfort.

"Oh, Ginny, we were going to be engaged!" Fleur managed to gasp out. "We were going to tell the family when Summer began, but now Bill simply stares about the flat, and says I 'deserve someone who isn't a monster'."

"That prat!" blurted Ginny. "Sounds like a bat-bogey hex is definitely called for. You love Bill, right?"

"Of course!"

"And the scars mean nothing?"

"Scars, pheh! If we need beauty, I have enough for both."

This caused Ginny to giggle a bit. "Then you need to fight for him. Ask Tonks for help, she's going through pretty much the same thing with Lupin right now."

"She is? Perhaps we could... ensnare both men together?"

"Sounds like a good idea. Oh, and if he still doesn't propose, just do what Mum did."

Fleur raised an eyebrow. "And what was that?"

A wicked smile spread across the redhead's face "She threatened to use a blasting hex on a certain part of Dad's anatomy if he didn't propose."

"GINNY! Molly really did that?"

"Well, they both agree she said that, and knowing Mum, I wouldn't put it past her.

The part-Veela witch started to smile, and her tears slowly started drying up. "I... I guess that could work as well."

Standing up, Ginny took Fleur by the arm and dragged her to the door. "Go firecall Tonks now. She's at Grimmauld Place, and the two of you can start planning your ambush."

The older girl paused. "And what about you and Harry? Or Ron and Hermione?" she asked with a conspiratorial grin.

"Oh, those two blockheads have a couple years, at least. Gotta wait until seventeen, remember?"

zzzzzzz

Sirius nodded to Viktor, and flashed a few Auror handsigns - four fingers, one finger pointing left, then three fingers, and a finger pointing right, followed by a hand palm down, a single finger, then one pointing right, and a hand, palm up. This meant there were four to the left, and three to the right, sleeping, with one awake to the right.

Viktor nodded, and pantomimed the wand gesture for a wide area concussive hex with his finger. Sirius shook his head, then did a complex movement with his own finger. Viktor grinned at this, and they took up opposite sides of the door.

They darted in, both waving their wands and shouting, "INGRAVITAS!" Sirius took the right, with the lone sentry, and Viktor took the left.

"Aurors!" shouted the guard, right as he felt his body's weight quadruple. Barely able to stand, he flopped on the floor, and screamed as a few ribs broke from the impact. A few of the sleeping forms tried to move, but found that it's much harder to move an arm that weighs a hundred pounds than one that weighs twenty-five.

"You have the right to counsel," began Sirius, as one by one he conjured ropes to tightly bind each man. "You have the right to medical treatment as a result of injuries incurred during this arrest. And you have the right to Trial by Wizengamut, with the opportunity to plead your case." Once all eight were securely tied, the two canceled their gravity spells

Viktor slid up the left sleeve of one of the men, who happened to still be asleep, and grunted. "Your informant was correct." He leaned back, and Sirius saw the Dark Mark clearly imprinted on his arm. "However, there were eight Death Eaters, not four."

The auror nodded, and checked the forearms of each man. Sure enough, all eight had the mark staining their forearms. "Good thing we got the drop on them, then. I'd hate to be outnumbered that badly."

A voice from behind interrupted them. "Oh... but you still are."

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Minerva McGonegall fought back tears as she left her meeting with the Board of Directors of Hogwarts. Dumbledore's magnificent memorial had been only two days prior, and now they informed her that her temporary investiture as Headmistress of Hogwarts, on Albus's request, was now a permanent assignment. On the one hand, it was a day she suspected would come for a long time. On the other, Dumbledore had been so close to her, almost like a father, since her first year at the school. He was the transfiguration professor, and she was a simply first year Gryffindor, but he had seen her talent, and taken her under his wing.

Over the years, rumors would pop up here and there that the love between her and Albus was more romantic than it appeared. That was utter hogwash, of course, as she could no more think of him romantically than she could her own father. But there was a great deal of love, and working together for nearly four decades brought its own level of connection.

Her thoughts drifted as she headed towards the apparation point. The Order of the Phoenix was now without a leader, and they should rectify that as soon as possible. Perhaps a vote, after nominations, of course. And... and perhaps Lupin should be the one she nominated. Yes, Remus Lupin. He was intelligent, level-headed, and skilled. And, as long as Sirius is there to help him, he was also confident and able to release his own worries and fears, and focus on whatever task lay before him.

With a moderately loud CRACK, she appeared in Hogsmeade. "Stop daydreaming," she muttered to herself. "You haven't made that much noise apparating since you were a silly little girl." She then began the trek up to Hogwarts.

Once at the gates, she was met by Hagrid. "G'day, Perfessor," he said. His own eyes were still wet with tears, and she suspected he had not stopped crying from the memorial until very recently, perhaps just before he met her at the gates. "Was it... was it what ye expected?" he asked.

She nodded. "The Board of Directors has seen fit to... to grant Albus's request about my position."

Hagrid sighed, and took up step beside her. His gaze drifted to the white monument near the gate, which was the final resting place of the man considered by many to be the finest Headmaster Hogwarts had known since the Founders, themselves. "I... I never thought I'd see the day," he admitted.

Minerva suddenly stopped, and put her hand on his wrist. "Rubeus... there was one request he made about you. And... and it was granted, as well. It will take a lot of hard work over the coming month, so you must be prepared."

"Wh...what was it?" he asked, hoping but afraid to hope at the same time.

"You will be taking your OWLs on August 29 and 30 in the core classes. If you succeed, you will be permitted to take your NEWTs at the same time next year." She smiled at him. "Tomorrow, if you agree, you will accompany me to Diagon Alley, to Olivander's, where we shall acquire a replacement wand for you."

He leaned over and swept her into a hug. "Thank ye, Perf... err, Headmistress. Thank ye!"

"Rubeus, put me down!" she protested. "I'm no longer young enough to be treated like a rag doll!"

"Oh, pish tosh, he said, setting her down. "Yer only twelve years older'n me."

"Be that as it may, I have not aged as... gracefully as you have, Rubeus." She sighed, for they stood before the main doors now. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?" she asked.

"Sure thing!" he said... then a smile cracked his face and his beetling brow arched. "Of course I would... Auntie Minerva."

"RUBEUS!" she said, "You haven't called me that for almost thirty years."

"Heh, well, sometimes you gotta go with the old to make ready for the new," he replied.

The two old friends headed for the second floor opening for the Headmaster's office. Along the way, they ran into Professor Flitwick, who joined them for tea, memories, and thoughts about the future.

zzzzzzz

"CRAPcrapcrapcrap!" snarled Sirius. "Viktor, send a Patronus, I'll cover you!"

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" shouted Viktor. From his wand erupted a large silver bear. It paused for a moment, then raced off at speeds no bear should be able to. Meanwhile, Sirius darted around the corner of the beureau they were hiding behind, and fired off several spells in quick succession.

A shout of pain let them know at least one hit its mark. "Blast the damn thing out from in front of them," snarled the rough voice of the lead Death Eater. "With no cover to hide behind, they'll be easy prey!"

Viktor shook his head, then darted out himself, firing off several stunners. Unlike Sirius, his haphazard aim meant none struck a target, but it forced them to keep their heads down for the moment. Sirius took advantage of that time, and transfigured the beureau into a steel vault door.

"Blast it! When I tell you to do something, do it then, not ten seconds later!" snarled the Death Eater. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" The sickly grean bolt of unrushing death slammed into the layered steel plating, causing several large chunks to spall off the front.

"Damn!" cursed Sirius. "A curse that powerful means it's likely one of the Inner Circle leading this little ambush, maybe Avery or Nott."

"How much time do you think we have left before our barrier is destroyed?" asked Viktor.

"If it's Nott, probably six minutes."

"And if it's Avery?"

"Four.

zzzzzzz

"I just can't believe it," muttered Dudley.

"I... I know," admitted Harry.

The two cousins were walking around Little Whinging,just letting their feet guide them and not really think about where they were going. Dumbledore's death had hit them both very hard, even though they knew it was coming and they had been able to say goodbye.

A large flash of silver distracted Harry. "What's that?" he asked, pointing.

Dudley looked, and squinted. "I dunno, I'm not even sure I see anything at all."

Suddenly a huge silver bear rushed from the bushes, startling both boys. It passed right through harry, then continued on to Number Eight Privet Drive. "UNCLE SIRIUS!" he shouted, grabbing Dudley's arm. "He and Viktor are in trouble!"

Dudley paled. "Not him, too!"

"Come on, we have to go get Uncle Remus!" The boys turned and bolted, following the silver bear. It had beaten them to the house by a fair margin, but they still started pounding on the door. "Uncle Remus, let us in! Uncle Sirius needs us!" shouted Harry.

The door was opened, not by Lupin, but by Moody. "Not you boys, he doesn't. We're sending a full strike team from the Order of the Phoenix to get him out of that jam."

"But..." protested Dudley.

"But NO. I'm not sending a half-trained wizard and a muggle into the middle of a small-scale spell war. Get your tails over to Number Four, now! We've got to go!" Moody scowled, then slammed the door in their faces.

The two young men slumped onto the steps of Number Eight Privet Drive, just two houses down from their own. "We can't lose him, too," insisted Dudley. "Not him, too."

"I know, Dudley. I know."

zzzzzzz

"Keep it up!" shouted the gravelly voiced Death Eater. "Just a few more blasts and that darn vault door of theirs will be gone!"

"He's right," muttered Sirius, taking the chance to throw a random curse at the Death Eaters. The past three minutes they had practically been pinned down, unable to even attempt a counter-attack.

"Then that is Avery?" asked Viktor with a smile.

"Yeah, it's Avery. Whoah!" Sirius suddenly ducked, as one of the green curses suddenly burst through their barricade, right above his head. "CRAPcrapcrapcrap!"

New voices joined the throng, pouring in from outside. At first Viktor and Sirius groaned, but then noticed that the new curses flying weren't aimed at them or their barricade, and weren't the revolting shade of green of the Killing Curse. "Thank god, the cavalry!" muttered Sirius. "In the words of those old Westerns... Yippee-kai-yay!" He dove suddenly out from behind the remnants of their vault door, and fored off three quick stunners. Two Death Eaters dropped, but one managed to put up a shield, forcing the auror to dodge his own curse.

A quick glance appraised him of the situation. "Viktor, let's go!" he shouted, and dove pell-mell into the massed Death Eaters. A sudden flash of black, and a huge dog, as black as night, began savaging the shocked villains.

Viktor took advantage of this distraction to sneak over the top of the barricade, whispering a charm to let him climb walls like a spider. From this vantage point, he recognized Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and others he did not know. They were still outnumbered, but the tide was turning. With an evil grin, he dropped onto a large, burly DeathEater with blonde hair, jamming his wand into the neckline of the man's robes. "INCINDIO!" he shouted.

The big blonde howled in pain as his robes ignited. He started flailing around in panic, sending random curses in all directions. More than a few hit his own fellows, though one purple curse hit Elphias Dodge. Most of the curses merely started blowing large holes in the walls, and an ominous creaking sound filled the air.

Shifting immediately to human form, Sirius snatched up the smaller Bulgarian man, and rushed for the door. "Everyone out!" he shouted. "The whole place is coming down!"

No sooner had those words left his mouth, than, with a horrific CRASH, the entire ceiling caved in.

zzzzzzz

Ron looked at what the grey owl had brought him, his eyes wide. He bolted out of the kitchen, and into the den. His parents were there, as Arthur had taken the week off to spend with his grieving family, and Ginny, the Twins, and Charlie were there as well.

"Everyone! There's been another attack!" he shouted.

"Another one? Why are you so agitated?' asked Charlie.

"They attacked the Ministry last night, just after sundown... and Minister Fudge was bitten by Fenrir Greyback in wolf form!"

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: EEeeeevil Cliffies! WOO-HOO! And yes, we will fid out next chapter a LOT of what has been building. It's number 40, so it'll likely be a pretty large chapter as a whole... 


	40. Chapter 40: Blood Ties and Other Bonds

Disclaimer: I am not a werewolf. And I also don't own Harry Potter.

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Blood Ties and Other Bonds

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Harry and Dudley paced across the living room of Number Four Privet Drive. It had been only a few minutes since they got home from Number Eight after the rude treatment by Alastor Moody. Harry's first stop had been to firecall the Weasleys, where he found out what had happened to the Minister. On learning his news, the redheads had all immediately flooed over.

Charlie looked up at the pacing boys. "You know it may be hours before we hear anything, right?"

"So?" barked Dudley. "It's Uncle Sirius. And now Uncle Remus, too, and who knows who else."

Mrs Weasley exchanged glances with Aunt Petunia, and stood up, walking over to the muscular young man. "Dudley, I think Charlie means that you will do no good for anyone if you worry yourself sick, or exhaust yourself. That goes for you too, Harry," she told them as gently as she could.

Ginny, meanwhile, stood up and crossed the room, stopping in front of the Boy Who Lived. His gazed paused on her for a heartbeat, then shifted to the clock, then seemed to focus far away. "Hedwig," he whispered.

A tiny hand suddenly impacted on his cheek. It wasn't hard, but it stung enough to startle him. "What was that for?" he demanded.

"Don't you even THINK of sending Hedwig there, Harry! If she died, a part of you would die too!" She then wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug her mother would be proud of. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you," she whispered, burying her face in his chest.

He leaned his face to look at her, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Gin. I just... if we could at least KNOW something..."

"The fire!" shouted Ron, and indeed it had just turned green.

Moody's scarred face became visible, and he scanned the room. "Good, yer here, won't have to make the extra call. Potter, get yourself to St Mungo's as quick as ye can."

"Uncle Sirius?" asked Dudley.

"No time, just get here!" barked the retired auror, then the fire flashed again, and returned to normal.

zzzzzzz

The Weasleys, Dursleys, and Harry almost ran from the public floo of St Mungo's to the waiting area, only to be intercepted by Tonks. She had a small burn patch on one arm, and fresh pink skin on her face and hands that marked recently healed scrapes and cuts. "Good, come on, Harry, we don't have much time," she said, and took his hand in hers and began leading him down to the lifts.

Ginny, Ron, and Dudley stayed right behind him. "Is it Uncle Sirius? Or is it Viktor?" asked the black-haired wizard.

"Both and more," sighed the metamorphomagi. "But you're really needed here for Remus."

"Uncle Remus?" Dudley started to shake slightly. "No, not both of them!"

Tonks helped them into the lift, not arguing about the extraneous presences. "Sirius will be fine, and so will Viktor. Elphias Doge is badly hurt from an unknown curse and Remus..." Her lip started to shake, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Remus might not make it."

"What happened?" demanded Ginny.

"They were investigating a tip about a Death Eater meeting. There were dozens of tips like that tonight, so we were all scattered across Britain. Sirius and Viktor were ambushed, and those that could make it rushed in to help. Viktor set one of them on fire, and the stupid burning git started blasting away, and dropped the house on them." The lift stopped, and she guided them down the hall. "Sirius managed to transfigure a brace to shelter Viktor and himself, and the rest of us were still just outside the house. Remus... Remus charged in there to get them out, because the place had caught on fire, and Sirius's brace wouldn't hold out for long."

They reached an intersection, and turned the corner. "He got them both out, but was struck on the head from a falling beam. When he fell, he impaled his leg on a shard of wood from the door. He... he nearly bled to death."

Ron frowned. "I thought you needed silver to kill a werewolf."

"Only in wolf form, Ron," muttered Harry. "All the rest of the time, they're just like everybody else. And since all this happened just before sundown, he was human."

"Oh."

"So... why did you need Harry here so soon, and not Dudley, too?" asked Ginny.

"Because... because Harry is the same blood type as Remus, and with the attack on the Ministry, we were told they didn't 'have the blood replenishing potion to spare for a mere werewolf'," she spat bitterly. They stopped just outside a door. "Harry... he's in here. They have his bleeding stopped, but he's in bad shape. Would... would you help him?"

Harry's fiery gaze met Tonk's pleading eyes. "Without a moment's regret," he said to her, and walked into the room.

A nurse was looking at readings from a bizarre magical device of some kind, and started shaking her head, when she noticed Harry. Not recognizing him, she asked as gently as she could, "Come to say goodbye?"

"Not this century," snarled Harry. "I'm here to give him some of my blood. How do we do that?"

This shocked the nurse. "But he's... he's a werewolf!" she protested.

"And so's the Minister, now, or haven't you heard?" snorted Ron. "That there is Remus Lupin, Liason to the Muggle Prime Minister, and the guys to my left here love him like an uncle. And if you didn't notice the scar, that one's Harry Potter!"

The nurse paled. "I'll bring the Healer in immediately. Mr Potter, please sit down in that chair." She pointed at a stiff-backed, slightly padded chair, then rushed out of the room.

Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sorry to go spouting off aboout 'That there's Harry Potter' and all, but I thought it would make things go faster."

Harry plopped down in the chair, and nodded. "Good idea... for once."

"Hey, I occasionally get good ideas!" protested the redheaded wizard.

"No, I meant for once it was a good idea to use my fame." He pivoted in the chair, and turned to face Remus. The werewolf was pale, and barely breathing. "Where are Sirius and the rest? And why isn't he changing?"

Tonks was staring at the man she loved, and took a moment before she answered him. "They're down the hall. They're both okay, but the Healers want to keep them overnight 'for observation'. And he isn't changing because this room is specially made for werewolves. It dulls both beast and man and uses strong anti-transfiguration magics to keep them from changing. But it can only be used, at most, once a year; next month the wolf is going to be hard to control," she sighed.

Harry nodded, then glanced around the room. "Tonks, would you mind? I'm still underage."

"Oh, right, of course," said the Auror, before bringing out her wand, and conjuring chairs for the rest of them. Ginny's was next to Harry, and on the other side of him from Remus. Dudley was on the other side of Remus, while Tonks and Ron sat against the wall.

They heard the Healer before the door was opened. "...you said something so thoughtless! Remember the code, it matters not who is injured save that we do our best to Heal!" The door swung open, and the Healer locked eyes with Harry. He was an older man, perhaps the same age as Professor McGonagall, but Harry couldn't tell. "Mr Potter, you say you wish to donate blood to help Mr Lupin?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you know the risks of this procedure?" asked the Healer.

"I don't care. The risks could include death and I'd still say go ahead and do it."

Ginny gasped, and the Healer studied him carefully. "I see. Very well, then, I'll go ahead and start, and explain as we go."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry.

"Quite alright, it's my calling, Mr Potter. By the way," he added as he started to tie a rubber tube around Harry's bicep, "I am Healer Mayfair. This procedure superficially resembles the muggle equivalent, but involves neither needle nor direct contact." He tapped at the insideof Harry's elbow. "I will be placing a bloodstone at the crook of your elbow, here, once the vein has... yes, it's ready. Then I will be wrapping a bandage around it to hld it in place, like so, and then its mate will be placed against Mr lupin's Cartoid Artery, also kept in place with a bandage." He began working on Lupin, deft hands swiftly accomplishing their task.

"How... how long will this take?" asked Harry.

"That all depends on your own heart rate and blood pressure, actually. The faster your blood is pumping, the faster the bloodstones will transfer it to Mr Lupin." Healer Mayfair drew his wand, and tapped the stone in the coork of Harry's arm, and then the stone attached to Lupin's neck. "Sanguinus Portato!" he incanted.

Harry felt a slight tingling in his hand, and clenched his fist a few times. "Feels kind of funny," he noted.

"Almost like your hand is getting cold?" asked the Healer.

"Yeah, like that."

"Good, the transfer is working. I want you to promise me something, Mr Potter," he sid, looking over a pair of horn-rimmed glasses in a gesture that reminded Harry strongly of McGonagall. "If you lose all feeling in that hand, if it goes completely numb, you must remove that bloodstone /IMMEDIATELY /. Otherwise, you could end up killing yourself, and that would do Mr lupin no good."

"I told you I'm willing to die for him," insisted Harry.

"But would your ladyfriend let you?"

The look in Ginny's eyes gave him the answer he needed. "I... I guess not."

"Right. Then, at the very least to spare everyone else here the young lady's wrath should you kill yourself trying to save him, please follow my instructions. Good luck." With that the Healer turned, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Depends on your pulse and blood pressure, huh?" asked Ginny, looking at Harry with a grin prickling at the corners of her mouth.

"That's what he said," agreed Harry, and Ron nodded.

Dudley glanced over at Tonks, and remembered something Harry had told him earlier. "You... you can sit here, Miss Tonks. I have to, umm, go to the loo." He got up, and with a nod to Harry, walkedout.

"Sqeamish much?" wondered Tonks as she watched him go. Sighing, she took up his chair beside Remus.

"Blood pressure and pulse rate," said Ginny again, the smile growing wider. She winked at Tonks, who suddenly realized what she was saying.

"Right, you said that."

"Oh, my, I wonder how you will get your blood pressure and all that rot up, Harry?" she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Huh?" was his eloquent response.

Before anyone else could say any more, she promptly plopped herself down in his lap, and started snogging the daylights out of him. "Gin!" shouted Ron, "I don't want to have to see that!"

Tonks reached out and took one of the hands of the sleeping werewolf. "Then go visit Sirius or Viktor," she snapped. "If it's helping Remus, they could go all the way for all I care."

This caused Ron to squawk loudly, and Ginny squeaked and fell right out of Harry's lap. Harry's face became bright red, and he turned eyes as wide as saucers on the young auror. "You... you're joking, right?"

"Only because Molly would kill me if I let the two of you do THAT under my watch," she admitted. "Well, don't just sit there," she insisted, "get to snogging!"

zzzzzzz

Dudley had crossed the hall to the nurse's station. "Pardon me, but where can I find the room of Sirius Black? The Auror?"

The nurse glanced at a slate and touched her wand to a few runes. "He's down that hall, to the left. You'll have to check in with the guards at his door, though."

"Right, okay," he said. Following the nurse's direction, he came to a door guarded by two very large, very burly men. Both were at least as large as Dudley would be when he would come into his full growth, and they eyed him like hunters watching prey. "I'm... I'm Dudley Dursley, here to see Sirius Black?" he stammered out.

One drew a wand, and pointed it at him quite deliberately , while the other, pulled out a piece of parchment and scanned it. "Yep, you're on the list. Proof of identity?"

"Right," he said, and slowly pulled his wallet out, and produced his driver's liscense, and handed it over.

The two guards looked at him, slightly confused. "Muggle?" asked one, and Dudley nodded. "Okay, you have a question here for you then. It's 'How old was Harry when he found out Sirius's Name'?"

Dudley grinned, putting his liscense back in his wallet. "He was nine."

"Right, in you go," said the one with the parchment, and stood aside. The other lowered his wand, and opened the door for him.

Sirius was inthe middle of telling some wild tale about a raid gone wrong some years ago to Vernon, Petunia, and the Weasleys. "So Dawlish turned to me, and tried to ask where our backup was, but a botched spell from the perp managed to shrink his head down to the size of a snitch!"

"Dudley! How is Remus?" asked Vernon, seeing his son enter the room.

"He's bad off, Dad, I'll not lie. But they've got Harry donating blood for him, so he should be fine." Arthur conjured a chair for Dudley, who nodded in thanks and sat down.

Sirius frowned. "James had to do this once for Remus, too, back in fourth year. Remus had been knocked out of the Quiddich stands by a rogue bludger, and had a compound fracture that started bleeding something fierce. Madame pomfrey had run out of blood replenishment potion, and Slughorn had been putting off making more for just a bit too long."

"So Harry's doing it for him, now," said Molly.

"Yes. Harry and James are... were the same blood type. So was Lily."

The door opened again, and Ron walked in. As his father conjured him a chair, the young wizard shuddered. "Blood pressure and pulse rate, they siad."

"Come again?" asked Sirius.

Ron rolled his eyes, and related what had happened between Ginny and Harry after Dudley left, and added Tonks' comment about the matter. This, of course, caused both Aunt Petunia and Mrs Weasley to gasp in mild shock, but Sirius merely laughed out loud. "That's my cousin Nymphadora, alright!"

"How's Viktor?" asked Ron, eager to change the subject and banish the mental images it had placed in his mind.

"Better than I am, actually," admitted Sirius. "I'm still a little weak from a conk on my noggin when the house fell down, but he's fit as a fiddle."

The conversation then turned to happier moments, as down the hall Harry and ginny kissed to save Remus's life.

zzzzzzz

Woozy, Harry Potter slowly opened his eyes, to see only white. Then red came into his field of view, surrounding flushed pink and inviting brown. He felt something on hisface, and suddenly his vision cleared as someone put his glasses on his face for him. That someone, of course, was Ginny. "You stupid prat," she almost sobbed, "you were supposed to tell me when your hand went numb!"

He glanced around, and saw that he, too, was in a hospital bed at St Mungos. "I... I didn't realize it had," he admitted. "I was sorta distracted, you know," he added, grinning.

She pouted, and straightened herself up to look at him. "Well, you're just lucky Healer Mayfair came in when he did. You won't need any blood replenishing potion, but you will be having double portions at every meal for the next few weeks."

His grin widened. "I bet Aunt Petunia and your Mum aren't too unhappy about that bit, they always complain I'm too thin as it is." Then the grin faded. "Remus... how is he?"

Ginny smiled. "He's much better. He woke up, and asked about Sirius and Viktor about an hour ago."

"Oh. How long have I been out?"

"About six hours," came a voice from the other side of the room. "And if you thought Sirius gave you a scare, just think about the scare you gave me. Why, Remus is lucky he's out of it himself or he'd be beside himself with worry, also!"

Glancing over there, he looked abashed. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon."

The large man ambled up to the other side of the bed, and ruffled the young wizard's hair. "It's okay, my boy. I know what you did and why you did it. And you should also know this young lady, here, blamed herself for you passing out for the first couple of hours."

"If I hadn't distracted him," fretted Ginny.

"Hey, it's okay, Ginny. At least I would have gone with a smile on my face," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood.

She punched him in the shoulder. "Don't even joke about that!"

"Ow, sorry, yes ma'am, no joking!"

Growing more and more awake, he looked around the room, and saw the sleeping forms of his Aunt and cousin, plus Arthur Weasley. As he glanced to the door, it happened to open, with a figure backing in carring a couple trays with various cups and bags on it. "Went down to the cafeteria, Vernon, and got us all a little something. How's Harry?"

As the man turned around, Harry's heart leapt with joy. "Uncle Sirius, i'm just fine!" he said.

Lowering the trays to a small table, Sirius smiled broadly, then walked over to the bed. Vernon stepped aside, and Sirus took his place. The auror leaned over, and engulfed the boy in a bearhug. "I was so worried about you, Pup!"

Harry returned the hug with equal fierceness. "I was worried about you, too!"

Dudley mumbled something about blonde hair and hazel eyes in his sleep, and rolled over, falling completely out of his chair with a loud THUD. "What? I'm awake! It's forty-two! Aristotle! East of the Danube river!" he blurted out.

"Mornin', Dud!" called Harry.

"Oooh... Mornin, Harry... I guess." The heavyset teen looked at his watch, and shook his head. "Well, technically, it is... looks like it's four AM."

"Are you hungry, Dudley?" asked Ginny, gesturing to the pile of pastries and cups of coffee and tea Sirius had just brought in.

"Especially for a young lass with blonde hair and hazel eyes?" chuckled Sirius.

"Blonde... hey, you wouldn't be talking about Joanne Kemmonds, from down the block, would ya?" grinned Harry.

Dudley blushed, but thanked Ginny. "And... maybe. She goes to Smeltings' sister school, Havenworth Academy. We... we had a Formal with them this year."

"So you DID meet someone at school Ron was right! Just wasn't your school, huh?"

"Shove it, Harry. Just because you got lucky and found your 'sweet papoose' at Hogwarts when you were twelve doesn't give you the right to tease me."

"No, the fact that you're my cousin gives me the right to tease you," Harry shot back.

"Point to the Gryffindor!" called out Sirius.

He realized he had been a mite to loud when one of Arthur's eyes cracked open. "Do you mind?" he muttered. "Some of us want to be refreshed and wide awake when Harry wakes up."

"Too late for that!" said Harry, smiling broadly. He tried to sit up to get a better look at everyone, but had to fight off a sudden bout of vertigo. "Whoah," he said as he flopped back onto his pillow. "Where's Hedwig?" he asked.

Vernon was about to say something, but Sirius stopped him. "Harry, think for a second. You always know where she is, now."

"Oh, right!" He closed his eyes briefly, then smiled. "She's found a nice, fat chipmunk about six blocks away, and is coming right back as soon as she's finished."

Sure enough, there came a tapping on the window not ten minutes later. Vernon opened the door, and Hedwig flew noiselessly inside. She paused to nip the muggle's ear affectionately, then flapped off to land on the head of Harry's bed.

Ginny noticed something slightly odd. "Harry... did you know you're starting to go grey already?" she asked, slightly concerned. "Right at the temples, there."

"What?" he exclaimed, and glanced up at Hedwig. Something passed between them, and the owl seemed to almost nod. "Oh, I'm not going grey. I'm going white blonde. But only at the temples. From the High Bond, like Hedwig's eyes turning green."

Sirius chuckled. "Well, old man, now you'll get to look distinguished before you even get to enjoy the experiences that make a man distinguished."

"Old man?" asked Harry incredulously. "Who's the one here old enough to have a kid in Hogwarts, himself?"

"I think that would be me," interjected Arthur.

"Point taken."

zzzzzzz

A week had passed since Sir Nick's passing, and the Council of Spirits had not yet decided who was to be the next House ghost for Gryffindor. Perpetua Fancourt, the witch who had invented the Lunascope, had been chosen to represent Ravenclaw, however. The only promise the Council of Spirits would make was that a new ghost would be chosen for Gryffindor and inducted before the thirty-first of August, which left them less than two weeks' time.

"But he's so handsome!" protested Moaning Myrtle.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" roared the Bloody Baron. "Not only did he never attend Hogwarts, he never did ANYTHING for the Wizarding World besides play utterly horrible so-called music!"

The Fat Friar sighed. "I'm sorry, Myrtle, but Stubby Boardman would not make a good House Ghost for Gryffindor. Besides, he has only been dead for a month and a half, simply not enough time to properly prepare himself to our condition."

"Pooh," pouted the permanently pubescent phantom.

"Perhaps... I could be of some assistance? I was a Gryffindor myself, you know," came a voice from behind the Bloody Baron.

"By Merlin! You!" gasped the Fat Friar.

"Indeed. By Merlin, indeed," rumbled the Bloody Baron. "Welcome to the Council of Spirits... sir."

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"Woo-hoo! Remus is coming home!" cheered Harry.

Having been released from St Mungo's only a day and a half prior, the Boy Who Lived's celebration wasn't quite as dynamic as it could have been, but his friends' exuberance more than made up for it.

Viktor and Sirius had been officially released early in the morning the day after the ill-fated assaulton the Death Eater hideout. Harry had been released the following day, but Remus was kept over because the three nights of the full moon were not quite finished.

However, the three days had passed, and it was time for the werewolf to return to Number Eight Privet Drive, as well as his role in the Ministry. When an unnamed source leaked it to the Daily Prophet that Remus had been injured saving Sirus, and that Harry Potter had risked his life to save him in return, there had been a moderately surprising upswing in his popularity. While there still was the occasional letter to him in his official capacity demanding to know how a werewolf had gotten the position, most of the letters his secretary sorted for him actually wished him well.

A pale blue bolt left the wand of one Nymphadora Tonks, and struck harry directly on the mouth. This was repeated on Dudley and the others, as she grumbled. "Too durn early... noisy brats..."

The teenagers suddenly realized they weren't making noise any more. An evil glint shining in his eye, Harry glanced at Hedwig, who hooted softly. The snowy owl then flew from her position on top of the television, into the kitchen where Tonks had trudged off.

"Oy!" came her outraged voice. "Bring that back, you stupid featherduster!"

Hedwig rushed out of the kitchen, and dropped a slender piece of wood directly in Harry's hands. She froze, seeing him wave her wand about (albeit backwards), and he simply pointed to his mouth, to the wand, mimicked the wand movement for 'Finite Incantatem', then nodded.

"What? You won't give it back unless I take the silencing spells offa you lot?" As he nodded again, she sighed. "Well... alright. But please try to keep it down, it's barely even morning yet!"

He handed over the wand, and she cancelled her spells. To test his voice, Dudley protested, "It's nearly eleven o'clock, Tonks!"

"And that''s barely morning," she agreed. "Any more, and it'd be afternoon, now, wouldn't it?"

"Wait a minute," started Harry. "Aren't you supposed to be at the Hospital, picking up Remus? Why were you asleep in the Guest Room?"

Ginny saw the widening smile on Tonks' face, and her suspicions grew faster than Harry's did. But before she could voice any of them, they were greeted by the sound of the Guest Room door closing, and a cheery voice on the stairs. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Uncle Remus!" Harry, Dudley, and Ginny rushed to hug him, while Ron patted him on the back (admittedly, the only thing the gangly redhead could reach that wasn't covered by someone else).

"Seems he was released at six o'clock this morning," noted Tonks.

"Six o'clock? But why... where..." Harry suddenly blushed.

"Figured it out, didja?" teased Tonks.

"Way to go, Tonks," giggled Ginny.

The metamorphamagi reached out, and clutched Remus by his neatly tied necktie. "Come on, you, I'm in need of some dessert," she growled. "Actual food this time." She kissed him quite thoroughly and passionately, then practically dragged him, uncomplaining, into the kitchen.

"You know," noted Dudley, "for some reason I'm not quite as hungry as I was before..."

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"You fool!" shouted Voldemort. "Your petty urge to see what you were capable of alerted those maggots of your existance!"

"I apologize, Master," hissed the specter of Wormtail. "What may I do to make it up to you?"

The most vile wizard in centuries frowned. "If you must test yourself, do it against someone who is actually a threat. Now get out of my sight."

Bowing, the ghost passed through the floor. Test himself against someone who was actually a threat, eh? Oh, that command gave him such wonderful ideas.

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"I still can't believe that a thirteen year old boy was capable of producing a Patronus capable of driving away that many dementors," insisted Alastor Moody.

He, Minerva McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Sirius Black were all gathered around a small kitchen table in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Though Harry, Sirius, Viktor, and Remus were out of danger, Elphias Doge was still in bad shape. He wasn't a young man anymore, even older than Minerva or Alastor, and that curse that struck him was something none of the mediwizards and Healers at St Mungo's had dealt with before. It was simply causing his lungs to seize up, and kept him from breathing without assistance.

"Really?" asked Sirius. "What if I told you he out flew a dragon n his Fourth Year, faced down a troll in First Year, and killed a basilisk in his Second Year?"

"I'd ask you where you're getting the firewhiskey, and why you're holding out on me, snorted Moody.

Headmistress McGonagall coughed politely. "Alastor... all of those things are true. All of those things and more."

The old auror's magical eye started spinning in its socket with a high pitched whine. "Minerva, you'd best not be trying to get a rise out of me."

"You have to admit, it sounds unbelievable," said Kingsley. "I mean, the last time a Basilisk was killed, down in Greece, it took ten auror-grade wizards to stop it, and seven of them died and one was petrified."

"The only way I'll believe it for meself is if I see Penseive evidence," declared Moody.

"Careful... you might end up getting more than you bargained for if you insist on that," warned Sirius.

"While debating whether or not Mr Potter's adventures are the matter of truth or tall tales could keep us entertained for hours, we still have yet to come to a final decision," interrupted McGonagall. "The overall vote from the membership is split between the two candidates, and we four must cast the final, deciding votes. Shall it be the first or second on this ballot?"

Moody shrugged. "The first. Without a doubt."

Sirius nodded. "Nobody better for the job."

Kingley grinned. "Like you'd expect me to say anything else? The first, of course."

She frowned. "Then though I cast my vote for the second, it is a useless gesture. By a margin of one vote, the first candidate is now the leader of the order of the Phoenix."

Sirius smiled. "Congratulations, Minerva! Have fun being our boss!"

zzzzzzz

Cornelius Fudge sat in his hospital room, staring out into space. His life, as he knew it, was officially over.

He was now a werewolf.

There was no way he would ever hold on to his position for more than a few more days, and he wouldn't even be surprised if the Wizengamut held a special meeting for the sole purpose of removing him from office. Within a month, for certain, he would be just another unemployed werewolf living on the dole, and howling at the moon once a month.

A knock came from his door. He paused, wishing momentarily that the old myth about a werewolf's senses and abilities being heightened in human form was true, but it was not. "Come in," he sighed at last.

It was someone he had been expecting since the moment he first woke up in the "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn Ward for Magical Bite injuries ward of Saint Mungo's. "Good afternoon, Minister," said Remus Lupin.

"Oh. Hello. Come to gloat? Come to shove my old words down my throat?" sneered the portly wizard.

"Actually, no," admitted Remus. "I've come to shove Dumbledore's words down your throat, as it were."

"Oh. Which ones? The ones about how the rights for nonhumans and part humans should be extended? How the safety of the Wizarding World should come before one man's reputation? Or some other matter where he felt I was being a foolish twit?"

Remus smiled. "Actually, they were words he once told Harry Potter, to be exact. 'It is our choices, not our abilities, that make us who we are'. And in our case, it is our choices, and not our difficulties that make us who we are."

"Pheh. Difficulties. You make it sound like we simply cough up a hairball once a month." snorted Fudge.

"Well, with the Wolfsbane Potion, that's practically what it is. Oh, the pain is still remarkably intense, but not as bad as it used to be. And the Wolf doesn't try to hurt himself anymore, either." Remus glanced over at a Wizarding Wireless, currently switched off. "Not listening to music?" he asked conversationally.

"No. I shut it off when some reporter started calling me a 'newborn monster' and a 'mangy cur on two legs as well as four'. How... how have you been able to live with all the... all the hate?" he asked, shaking his head.

"I was lucky enough to have two of the best friends a man could ask for - three, once James and Lily got together, and four if you count Harry."

Fudge sat down on his bed. "Lucky you. My own Undersecretary, Umbridge, has been calling for my resignation. And I thought she was my friend."

Remus shook his head. "You cannot tell who your friends really are when things are going well for you. You can only tell when they aren't."

Another knock on the door interrupted their discussion. "Come in," said the weary Minister.

"Minister, I think you ought to turn on the Wireless," said the person who entered. It was the tall, unmistakeably red-headed Percy Weasley. "It's very important."

"Do you see Percy, here?" asked Fudge as he reached over to turn the device on. "He's one of the few who stuck by me the past week."

Remus smiled at Percy. "Yes, Minister, the Weasleys are known for their loyalty."

The wireless crackled, and then began to clear up. To the surprise of Remus and the Minister, it was Harry Potter's voice they heard. "...stand by him. There might be a couple of days each month when he will be indisposed, but that is no reason to turn our backs on him.

"You, in the front row. If the Minister had come down with, say, tuberculosis, and was incapacitated with coughing fits once a month, would you be pushing for him to be kicked out of office? I thought not. He's still the same man, people, and with the same goals. Goals I share - the end of Voldemort and his bigoted ways."

"But tuberculosis doesn't turn a man into a ravenous, bloodthirsty monster!" protested a voice in the background.

"And with the help of the Wolfsbane Potion, neither does this. What it does is give him one night of lonely agony, and a suffering the likes of which we can't even begin to understand. Uncle Remus..."

"Would that be Remus Lupin, the Muggle Liason?' interrupted another voice, one they all recognized as belonging to Rita Skeeter.

"Yes it would," admitted Harry. "Anyway, Uncle Remus once told me that the transformation was as bad as the Cruciatus. Bones splinter and muscles tear, and they force their way into a new shape. Now imagine having to suffer that much pain, knowing it is going to happen and when, without fail. Planning your life around a torment that has driven some insane. I know I can't, and my respect for Uncle Remus and how proudly he lives his life grows every time I try.

"Now our Minister is faced with the same future. He has been assailed by one of the darkest weapons Voldemort has to offer." There were many gasps and a few cries of disbelief at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "But if he is willing to still stand tall and proud before you, let him! And if he is willing to suffer through that, and still try to guide the Wizarding World in these troubled times, then you should be ashamed of yourselves if you even think about not letting him!"

"But he's a werewolf now!" came another protest.

"One day a month, yes. But all the rest of the days, he's the man who won the last election by a landslide. The man who helped guide a wartime economy and society back to one of peace as the Undersecretary to Minister Milicent Bagnold. The man you ALL have lauded in the past.

"If you turn your backs on him now, you've done Voldemort's job for him. Congratulations, you've let fear, mistrust, and hate grow, spreading the influence of darkness, and giving Moldy Shorts even more power. But if you unite behind him, if you let the WORLD know that Britain has left archaic, Medieval notions in the past, where they belong, then you take that power away. You strike at him at the heart of his power, and you score another victory for the light. That is all I have left to say."

Chaos erupted from the Wireless, and Fudge shut it off. "Did you know that was going to happen?" asked Fudge quietly.

"Actually, no," admitted Remus. "Harry hates publicity, and under most circumstances would rather share a room with a rabid nundu than deal with it."

Percy nodded slowly."I... I have to agree with Mr Lupin, sir. He seemed quite frustrated with the reporters who tried intercepting him at Platform Nine and Three Quarters when I was still in school."

"What likely happened," began Remus, "is he was caught by a group of reporters waiting outside. When he realized he couldn't get away, he decided to take advantage of his unwilling fame."

"Remarkable boy," muttered Fudge. "Simply a remarkable boy. Weasley!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Help me pack. I'm going home. And I expect to see you at work tomorrow at nine AM sharp! We have much to do."

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: Wow, my longest chapter yet. and an example of a chapter where I didn't decide on a title until it was complete. So Fudge is going to try to stay Minister despite his new affliction, Gryffidor has a new House Ghost, McGonegall is the new leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Wormtail has evil ideas, and everyone else besides poor old Elphias Doge has recovered from the ambush. Whatever will happen next, as Harry returns to school? 


	41. Chapter 41: Ghostly Travails

Disclaimer: I NEVER said Dumbledore was the new Gryffindor Ghost! Oh, yeah, and I don't own Harry Potter, either. 

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Ghostly Travails

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"So do you think they've found replacement House Ghosts, yet?" asked Ron, pushing his trolley towards the train.

"The way our luck has been, lately," groused Harry, "the new Gryffindor Ghost is probably Peeves."

Hermione harrumphed. "That's not possible. Don't you remember, Hea... sniff... Headmaster Dumbledore said he wasn't really a ghost. And the House Ghosts have responsibilities. Can you see Peeves even TRYING to be responsible?"

The final days before September First had been rather hectic. With the attack on the Ministry, the OWL and NEWT results had been quite late, leaving the students only a week to decide on classes and get their books. Hermione had done phenomenally, of course, while Harry had done relatively well - especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the only area his score had beaten Hermione's.

They had reached the train by this time, and the voice of another student joined in their conversation. "D'ya... d'ya think Dumbledore might be the new House Ghost?" asked Neville.

The thought made Harry hurt all over. "I... I don't know. On the one hand, we'd be able to see him again, and talk to him again. But on the other, he still wouldn't be able to give anyone hugs, or enjoy sherbert lemons, and he'd be 'stuck' there long after all of us have left." He sighed. "Besides, there's no way he'd become a ghost. He had nothing left undone, and no sense of loss or greif at his death."

Neville blinked. "Nothing left undone? But, surely, You-Know... I mean, V-voldemort..."

Harry fixed him with a gaze that spoke volumes. "HE had nothing left undone," he stressed.

Understanding suddenly filled Neville's eyes. "O-oh. You mean..."

"Exactly."

Ginny tugged lightly on Harry's arm. "Come on, let's get loaded up so we can get the large compartment in Car Four for everyone."

"Right. Well, come on, Neville. Ron and Hermione need to go forward for the Prefect's Meeting, so let's go grab that compartment."

zzzzzzz

Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Parvati relaxed in their compartment, playing Exploding Snap. "Harry, how could you STAND the worry two weeks ago?" asked Parvati. "Even after I found out he was okay, I was STILL beside myself."

"Two weeks ago? What happened?" asked Neville.

The others exchanged glances, and nodded. Harry said, "Neville, a couple of weeks ago, Sirius took Viktor on a raid with him. They got ambushed, and only survived thanks to Remus and some other Auors. And... and Remus nearly died saving them. It was the night Fudge was bitten."

"Oh. Are they alright, now?"

"Yep," nodded Ginny. "Remus got a blood transfusion from Hero Boy, here, and the others weren't that badly hurt."

Luna smiled dreamily, clutching Neville's arm. "I understand that Fudge was bitten as a part of the Unspeakable's conspiray to turn all of the Ministry Officials into Dark Creatures in order to stop the flouridation of Skele-Gro."

This stopped everyone cold, as they all turned to stare at her.

"Well, not really, I just wanted to se the looks on your faces," she admitted with a small giggle.

Suddenly the door flew open, and Cho Chang, of all people, fixed Luna with a stare. "Girl, we need to talk. NOW," she said, her Head Girl badge glinting as sunlight flashed in through the compartment window.

"Okay," said the blonde girl, seemingly oblivious to the fire in Cho's eyes, and squeezed Neville's arm. "We'll beright back," she reassured him. She then stood, and joined Cho, then walked off for a conversation in a private compartment.

Hermione and Ron waited until the two Ravenclaws had left before they walked in. Ron shook his head and looked at Harry. "Mate," he said, "remind me NEVER to get Cho mad at me."

"What happened?" asked Ginny. "Why is she mad at Luna?"

"She's not so much angry AT Luna as she is angry FOR Luna," said Hermione. "It seems the female Fifth Year Ravenclaw Prefect let something slip at the Prefect's Meeting about how all of Luna's female yearmates keep stealing all of her things throughout the year."

"They don't!" cried Neville, eyes wide. "How could they do that?" he demanded and his face started to fill with a patchy red, and his eyes began to narrow.

"Easy does it, Neville," said Parvati, who patted him gently on the arm.

"See, Cho did almost the same thing, 'cept for the turning red bit. And she was a LOT scarier," said Ron.

Harry shook his head. "What did she do?"

"She resisted the urge to hex the girl, for one," said Hermione, "but gave her an INCREDIBLE chewing out in this really creepy, low tone of voice. And... and she took three hundred points from Ravenclaw."

Whistles filled the compartment. "Can she even do that?" asked Parvati.

"Well, she can take points away from any House as Head Girl... but I don't know if she can take points away before school even begins," admitted Hermione.

Ron shrugged. "Either way, she was NOT happy. She said it was something 'Old Slytherin' would have done."

"Old Slytherin?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. We sorta decided that since the Slytherins we got now ain't like they used to be, we'd call the traitorous lot 'Old Slytherin'." Ron shrugged. "The scary part was, Draco seemed mildly perturbed, too."

"Really?" asked Ginny.

"Yes. He said something about 'How do you expect to defeat He Who Shall Not Be Named if you can't even get along with your own?'. He didn't even call Voldemort 'the Dark Lord'," noted Hermione.

zzzzzzz

The compartment door closed behind Cho and Luna, and the Asian girl promptly turned on the blonde. "WHY didn't you tell me it was happening? Or another Prefect? Or even Professor Flitwick?"

Luna shrugged. "I might be able to answer that if you tell me what you're talking about."

"Your roommates stealing your things," said Cho, exasperatedly. "That's not only theft, it's harrassment, and you don't deserve that."

"It's only things," said Luna. "Besides, they give them back at the end of the school year."

"Luna, it's more than that. I know what they call you behind your back, and I know you don't seem to care. But you're a member of the OGL, you're one of us."

Luna smiled wistfully. "I like the OGL. It's almost like having friends," she noted.

Cho's jaw dropped. "It... sigh, Luna, we ARE your friends," she said, then wrapped the slightly taller girl in a hug.

"We... we ARE friends?"

"Yes," insisted Cho. "Everyone in that compartment likes you for YOU, Luna. We care about you, and we think of you as a friend. Especially Ginny and Neville."

"You don't think I'm weird, like everybody else?"

"Well, you are different from everybody else, but it's part of what makes you, well, you. You're like the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland, you 'beleive ten impossible things before breakfast'. And you have more heart than those little bitches who have been nicking your things."

Luna smiled dreamily. "Friends. I like the sound of it."

"Good. Now let's get back to the compartment, Ron and Hermione are probably telling everyone else what happened."

zzzzzzz

Like last year, this year's train ride passed without a visit from Draco. Unlike last year, however, there was no unease about the lack of a visit.

They clambered into the Thestral-drawn carriages, and bantered easily as they headed towards the school. However, each one of them hid a corner of their heart where there seemed to be only emptiness at the loss of Headmaster Dumbledore, and Nearly Headless Nick. The Ravenclaws would miss the Grey Lady, but at least knew she was still part of this world and had not moved on to the next.

At the school, they were met by Headmistress McGonagall. "Miss Chang, a word, please?" she asked, then drew Cho aside. After a brief discussion, where the Headmistress gasped aloud at one point, sending glares at Luna's classmates, they returned. "Very well, please enter the Great Hall. Deputy Headmaster Flitwick will be entering soon with the First Years. Miss Jacobian, please go to my office immediately after the Feast, and bring your Prefect badge. And the loss of points Ravenclaw recieved on the Hogwart's Express stands."

All eyes turned on the Fifth Year Ravenclaw singled out by the Headmistress as they entered the great Hall, some with more than a bit of fire in them. Most of the Ravenclaws were furious with her for losing their house so many points before the year even began, while certain members of the OGL were furious for a different reason.

They all sat down, and Seamus leaned over to Harry. "What happened on the train that lost Ravenclaw /three hundred / points? Did she kill someone or something?"

"No," admitted Harry. "But she DID break the law, and also admitted to four years of harrassing another student. Apparantly all of the girls in her year at Ravenclaw were in on it too, except for their victim."

Seamus shook his head. "Let me guess - Luna, right?"

"Yup," said Ron. "And she never even told anyone, because she didn't think it was an important matter."

"I don't think I'll ever understand her," chimed in Dean. "I mean, Neville's got it fierce for her, but all she does is confuse me."

Hermione harrumphed. "Just because someone confuses you doesn't mean they're not a good person. And Luna is a sweetheart."

Dean leaned back, hands in the air. "Whoah, whoah, Hermione, I never said she wasn't! I mean, she's just got so much going on that I can't kep up with her."

"You aren't the only one," admitted Neville. "But when she gets a full head of steam, I just sit back and let her ramble. Besides, when she does, she gets the cutest gleam in her eyes..." He drifted off, and looked over at the Ravenclaw table, meeting the gaze of the blonde girl and smiling at her.

"Ugh," grunted Seamus. "Maybe I'm lucky being unattached if that's what dating does to you."

All the girls in the immediate vicinity swiveled their heads to look at him. "Care to rephrase that, Mr Finnegan?"

Before the Irish lad could answer, the Headmistress called for silence, and the Sorting Hat began its song for the year:

_"Honor and Cunning and Knowledge and Toil  
Courage, Ambition, Discerning and Loyal._

_These are the traits I perceive in you all  
And sort you to houses, to stand or to fall._

_Where Gryffindor's crimson and gold pennants wave  
I send the young warriors, fiery and brave._

_In Ravenclaw's roost lay the finest of minds,  
Where winds of sweet wisdom their members shall find._

_In warm, cozy burrows, the Hufflepuffs dwell  
As solid as stone, and as loyal as well._

_The waters of Slytherin, for those with their vision  
Shall carry and slake their own thirst for ambition_

_The Founder's four elements, Fire and Air  
Water and Earth, no coincidence there._

_Alone, you have power, but weakness as well.  
Together, a strength that no mortal can tell._

_A shadow is rising, the specter of fear  
Keep your friends close and your family near_

_The Light and the Phoenix shall show you the way  
But what force shall triumph's too hidden to say_

_So stand with your brothers and sisters, young hearts  
To face what may come, let us all do our part."_

Silence greeted the song, followed by scattered applause and confused mutterings from the four house tables. "That... that was definitely not a normal song for the Sorting Hat," whispered Hermione to those close to her.

"The Light and the Phoenix shall show you the way... it knows about the OGL and the OTP?" asked Ginny.

"It WAS sitting on a shelf in... in Grampa Albus's office during all of our... special lessons," noted Harry, faltering as he thought of the beloved old man.

"We'll worry about it later, the Sorting's begun," noted Hermione.

Sure enough, Dale Argent was at that moment sorted into Hufflepuff. By the time Rodney Zelaney was sorted to Ravenclaw, Ron had already started grumbling about hunger. Gryffindor had actually managed to get quite a few of the new students, with Slytherin recieving the least, this year.

Once young Mr Zelaney had reached his seat, Headmistress McGonagall stood, and motioned for silence. "It is... tradition for the Headmaster or Headmistress to say a few words before the feast. At this moment, I can think of no finer words than these: Nitwit, blubber, oddment, and tweak.Now let the feast begin!"

Many of the sixth and seventh years grew somber, remembering those same four words coming from the man known as the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever known. Some of the fifth years, such as Ginny, had at least heard of what Dumbledore had said before the feast in Harry's first year, and grew silent as well.

Fighting back a swell of tears, Harry noticed something, and smiled to himself. "It looks like there's one thing that can keep Ron away from food for a while - memories."

Ron shook his head. "Naw, not that. Musta gotten some pepper in my eye when the food appeared, that's all."

"Riiight," said Harry. "And I just got hit in my eyes with miniature water balloons by a baby poltergeist." Parvati sniggered at that.

A few moments later and both were eating and carrying on, even though their hearts just weren't in it anymore. Hermione glanced around. "The Fat Friar and the Bloody Baron are at their tables, but the new Ghosts aren't here yet. And... and is that TWO new staff members at the table?"

Looking up, Harry noticed the two new instructors. One of them was a stern man, with grey streaks in his dark blonde hair and a predatory look to him. "That's Rufus Scrimgeour," said Harry, "Sirius's immediate boss. Since he's an auror, he's probably the new DADA instructor."

"But what about the witch up there?" asked Dean.

Harry glanced over, and saw a rather unremarkable looking woman. She was relatively young, perhaps in her mid to late 20's, and had a head of straight, rather mousy brown hair. As Harry studied, her, he mentioned, "Odds are that's the new Transfiguration teacher. But..."

The witch seemed to sense his observation of her, and turned to look at him and winked. When she opened her eye after the wink, he was shocked to see that particular eye was now green instead of brown. "That conniving little witch!" he exclaimed.

"What?" said Ron.

"It's Tonks! Why didn't she tell us?"

Ginny giggled. "You know how she likes to tease and surprise people."

"True," he admitted.

Shortly after, McGonagall stood once more. "Your attention, please," she intoned. "I would like to begin this year's announcements by reminding all of you... yes, ALL of you... that there is to be no magic in the corridors between classes, the Forbidden Forest is precisely that, and that the entire list of products from the recently opened Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes has been added to the contraband list. The full list may be seen on the door to the office of our Caretaker, Mr Filch, for those interested in reading it."

Ron grinned. "Mom doesn't know what to do," he admitted to Harry and Hermione, though mostly the latter. "They opened the shop this summer, and she can't even complain - they both did awesome on the NEWTs they took."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let me guess... one took half the subjects, and the other took the other half?"

"How'd you guess?" Ginny asked with more than a hint of her tongue in her cheek.

The Headmistress's voice interrupted their conversation. "And I would like you all to welcome Rufus Scrimgeour, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, and Miss Nymphadora Tonks, our new Transfiguration Instructor and new Head of House for Gryffindor."

Both of the aurors stood, and nodded to the students. Tonks, however, scrunched up her face slightly, and suddenly shifted to her normal, far more attractive and colorful self, complete with spiky bubblegum pink hair. "Wotcher, all!" she called out smiling.

Most of the male population immediately started applauding and cheering twice as loud as before, especially the unattached Gryffindors. Harry turned to Ginny and muttered with a grin, "I'm not sure if I have the heart to tell Seamus that she's with Uncle Remus."

"And now, the new members of the Council of Spirits here at Hogwarts. The new Ravenclaw ghost, Mrs Perpetua Fancourt," she called out, and a shimmering form floated up from the floor. She was an older, chubby woman with bushy hair remarkably similar to Hermione's, but the general feel of a kindly old grandmother. She smiled kindly down on her new charges, though she shot Miss Jacobian a disappointed look.

"And, for the Gryffindors... Mr Nicholas Flamel."

This completely flummoxed Harry, Ron, and Hermione, because of their escapade their first year. The entity who rose up to take Nearly Headless Nick's old seat at Gryffindor Table was also slightly overweight, with a short, neatly trimmed beared and eyes that showed many years of long life before he discovered the Elixer of Life. He nodded gently to the students, and smiled, before turning to Harry and nodding at him specifically. Harry, polite as ever, returned the informal bow.

"Now, something that has not been done for several years now... we shall all sing our school song! There is no specific melody, so please, choose one you believe is the most appropriate. Let us begin!"

Only the older students sung with much vigor, as they rememembered five year prior and what it sounded like. But as the song, if it could truly be called that, progressed, more and more students joined in. The cacaphony seemed to lift spirits across the Great Hall, with Perpetua Fancourt even doing a sort of jig to the lively tune Cho was belting out.

Finally, only one student was left singing - surprisingly it was Luna, who was using the tune from Amazing Grace. Her clear voice seemed to ring through the hall as she sang the final verse. Then, there was only silence.

After a moment, McGonagall coughed, then looked out across the students. "Very well, off to bed, the lot of you! Ravenclaw Sixth Year prefects, please cover for your fifth year counterparts tonight. Miss Jacobian, if you please." She then turned, and walked out of the staff entrance to the Great Hall. The young former prefect followed her, as downcast as if she was being led directly to the Dementors.

Harry stood, and followed the flow of students out of the great Hall. At one point, he happened to pass near Draco Malfoy. "So that's what you meant in June," noted the platinum blonde.

"Figured it out, did you?" asked Harry.

"That I did. I shall see you in class... Cousin." They reached a side passage, and the Slytherins all turned off to head to their Common Room.

Ron was utterly confused. "What was all that about?" he asked.

Harry sighed, and looked at Ginny, who squeezed his hand supportively. Harry threw his free arm over the shoulders of his best friend and began, "There's something about my family you need to know. Something I've been hinting at for months and months..."

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Hestia Jones leaned back in her cozy easy chair, reading the latest novel by Mercedes Lackey. "The woman may be a muggle, but her writing is surely magic," she muttered to herself with a grin. She then turned the page to see how the White Gryphon would deal with his current difficulties.

A knock on her door distracted her, and she put the book down with a grunt of protest. "Sirius, for the last time, I will not go out with you to a muggle football game!" she thundered, throwing the door open.

"Hi, honey, did you miss me?" asked the horrific figure before her.

"Y-you! But... but you're dead!" she protested, staggering back in disbelief and reaching for her wand.

"Why, yes, I am. And I've never felt better!" cackled the diaphanous form. Reaching to his side, he pulled out the ectoplasmic rapier that had once belonged to Nearly Headless Nick. "But you won't be!"

Hestia whipped out her wand, and cast a stunner. The bolt passed right through the specter, to impact with the wall beyond. "Damndamndamn!" she cursed.

"Such language, from a lady!" chided the mean spirit. "Though, to be fair, I expected as much from one of Padfoot's little sluts. Now... goodbye!"

Her last thought as the ghostly sword ripped through muscle and bone, puncturing her heart, was that this could not be.

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A/N: Hahahah! Fooled you! It was Nicholas Flamel, not Dumbledore, who is the new Gryffindor Ghost! And the Bloody Baron called him 'Sir' because, at least in MY timeline, Nicholas was the Potions Master and Instructor at Hogwarts during the Bloody Baron's own schooling there. And Wormtail scores his first 'living' kill! Who will be next for this insane specter?


	42. Chapter 42: Brush with Destiny

Disclaimer: I never promised Harry a rose garden... 

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Brush with Destiny

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Harry fidgeted nervously, completely uncomfortable.He didn't know Hestia Jones very well, but Uncle Sirius was close to her,so he went to the funeral for his sake.

He noted that more than half the mourners were muggles, who didn't give a second glance to some of the more bizarrely dressed wizards present. Several of them looked to be military, and he could swear he heard an American accent from one he overheard before the actual funeral began.

Eventually, it was done. Sirius ended up being the last person to leave the grave site, so Harry waited at the edge of the cemetery for him. When the older wizard finally reched him, he threw an arm over the lad's shoulders. "Harry, it's time to introduce you to a fine muggle custom. It's called... a wake."

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"To the beast female Heavy Fighter the barony ever had!" howled out one of the muggles, raising a beer.

"HUZZAH!" cried out everyone.

It turns out that Hestia had been part of a rather creative muggle organization called the Society for Creative Anachronism. Primarily an American organization, this particular group was primarily made up of American servicemen stationed at nearby RAF Edzell and other bases within a couple hours drive. They would meet at Edzell Castle, a total ruin even without any muggle repelling charms right near the border between the Highlands and the Lowlands, and would conduct both organizational meetings, and so-called 'fighter practice'. Effectively, this meant armoring up in heavy steel helmets, and various other bits of armor (some realistic like full plate thigh, knee, and shin guards, others more functional such as pickle barrel plastic pieced together in the rough shape of a breastplate), then proceed to whack each other repeatedly with rattan sticks they treated as 'swords' and 'glaives'. Which, of course, sounded to Sirius like a completely awesome way to spend a Sunday afternoon, now that he was aware of it.

These so-called 'SCAdians' were, in fact, muggles, but seemed closer to the Wizarding World than their own. They sometimes referred to those who didn't understand their group as 'mundanes', and would 'garb up' in a sometimes accurate representation, sometimes haphazard agglomeration of pseudo-Medeival or early Rennaissance clothing, expecially for their meetings at Edzell Castle.

According to one local Scottish member, who introduced himself by saying "In the Society, I am Nicholas Farnsworth. In Mundanity, I am SIR Michael Hornpiper," Hestia had encountered the group during one of her investigations. They were convinced she was National Law Enforcement, but was cagey about her actual occupation, leading most to assume she was MI5. "Not far from the truth," Harry muttered to himself.

As Harry sipped his soda, and chatted with some of the younger SCAdians (one was barely nineteen, a Marine from Kentucky, and the other the sixteen year old son of an Air Force Major), one burly Scotsman in full kilt ambled up to him. He threw one arm over Harry's slender shoulders, and asked, "So how'd you know Sophia, eh?"

"Huh?" This confused Harry, and the smell of whiskey reminded him uncomfortably of the time he had met Mundungus Fletcher over the summer.

"Oh, sorry, her Persona name was Sophia DeLaRoche. I meant Hestia, o' course."

Harry shrugged. "Sirius, there, is my Godfather, and he was dating her for a little while."

They all glanced over, to see Sirius literally chugging from a slightly bulbous, dark bottle with a black label. "Och," gasped the drunken Scotsman, "that's Jameson's 12 year old fine whiskey! He'll be feeling THAT in the mornng!"

Harry groaned. "Good thing Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Uncle Remus will be the ones to have to deal with him, then. He's positively awful when he's got a hangover."

The nineteen year old Marine chuckled. "Heh, anyone would be. I 'member the first time I got meself drunk on Turkey 101. The next day was pure blind murder."

The Scotsman stepped back, and gave Harry a once-over. "So whaddya think?" he asked the young Marine. "Kid's gonna be a Heavy Fighter or a Wire Weenie?"

The Marine gulped. "Err, I dunno. He's kinda small... wire weenie?"

Roaring in laughter, the man slapped the young Marine on the back. "Me boyo, look again! Sure, he's thin, but he's got good shoulders and looks like a firm hand. He could likely be one helluva heavy fighter once he gets used to the hits and the weight. Minimum armor, though, for sure. Don't wanna slow him down too much."

"Umm, excuse me," interrupted Harry, "but I don't think I'd be joining anytime soon, anyway. I'm still in school, and it's a boarding school."

Shrugging the Scotsman clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, lad, there's always when ye graduate. If ya wanna learn to fence, and I mean old-style, not this 'only on the line' crap they do in the Olympics, ye can be a wire weenie, like Madders, over there. Or, ye can strap on the armor and be a stick jock, learnin' how ta use a REAL sword. 'Course, ye'll have ta bulk up a bit, 'specially yer arms."

A brief flash of driving the Sword of Gryffindor into the brain of the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets flashed through his brain. "Err, I really don't think that will be neccessary, thank you." He saw the man's face fall a little, and realised he must sound like a 'mundane' to this muggle. "However, I'd love to watch. I bet some of you are really good!"

Sirius suddenly flopped up against Harry and leaned in. "Having fun?" he breathed, making the Scotsman's breath smell like roses by comparison.

"Ugh, Sirius, I think i's almost time to get you out of here," complained Harry, wrinkling up his nose.

"NONSENSE!" roared Sirius. "I can still stand! I can still talk! And I can still... remember..." Suddenly Sirius's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he bonelessly slipped to the carpet.

"Well, I can't say he can't hold his liquor," admitted the Scotsman, "that was the third bottle I seen him drinkin'."

"THIRD?" almost shouted an incredulous Harry.

"Aye. Hestia's passin' musta hit 'im pretty hard."

"I... I think it's the 'not knowing who did it', part, too," added Harry as he bent down to try to wrangle his godfather to his feet. The Marine immediately helped him, and together they managed to get the auror upright, if not exactly conscious.

"Strange, 'twas," admitted the Scotsman. "Stabbed wi' some kind o' long knife, an' the blade never found, an' nothin' taken." He glanced around, then winked at Harry. "Related to one o' her cases, was it?"

The Boy Who Lived found his eyes hardening, considering who was most likely behind the death of the vivacious and slightly cocky witch. "Without a doubt."

"Then that means her... agency'll spare no quarter, 'en, dunnit? Dun worry, lad, they'll find the bastard what did it, you can be sure."

Harry nodded, and slower and more distinctly he repeated himself. "Without. A. Doubt." He turned his head to the young Marine. "Can you help me get him to the lobby? I can call a cab from there."

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Tonks took her head out of the fire and sighed, a goofy grin spread across her face. She had just finished a firecall to Remus, which explained the grin. It had began as a call concerned about her cousin, and ended up being a bit more of a romantic conversation than anything else.

"Now that you are finished, may we speak with you?"

Startled, Tonks turned around, to find a small troupe waiting in the doorway of her office. Headmistress McGonagall stod in front center, with Harry Potter right beside her. Arrayed behind them were the rest of the core Order of the Golden Light "H-how much did you hear?" asked the pink haired auror.

"Only from 'I'll see you later, fluffypoo'," snickered Ron.

"Whew. Okay, so what's this meeting about, then?"

They all entered, and couches were conjured up. "It's about our mysterious specter," said McGonagall.

"Of course," grumbled Tonks. Hestia hadn't exactly been a close friend, but they had gotten along and worked well on those few Order of the Phoenix missions they had been on together. "So do we have anything new?"

Hermione pulled out a sheet of paper. "Here's what we have. First, the specter can somehow get through the wards of Hogwarts - he was on the grounds, inside the wards when he murdered Sir Nicholas. Second, he knows at least some members of the Order of the Phoenix, and where they live. Third, he's completely vicious, and apparantly efficient at what he does. Fourth, he's fast - he managed to 'kill' Sir Nicholas before he could use that ghostly rapier of his to even try to defend himself."

"It is the first item that most concerns me," admitted McGonagall. "If the wards of Hogwarts are no deterrant, then I know of little to stop him from attacking any of her inhabitants, from the youngest First Year to the most powerful Instructor."

Harry paused, suddenly. "Headmistress... do the wards extend underground?"

This took McGonagall aback slightly. "Underground? To be honest, Harry, I'm not sure. Why?"

Hermione gasped, having realized what Harry was referring to, closely followed by Ginny. "Mate, you don't mean..." began Ron.

"I do," admitted Harry. "This means there are at least two ways the specter could have gotten onto the campus, without being able to 'ignore the wards'."

Tonks frowned. "Two ways? What are they?"

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment. He winked at his friends, saying, "I never go anywhere in here without it." Unfolding it and tapping it with his wand, he declared, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

McGonagall and Tonks gasped as the spidery lines soon filled the page, providing a distinct and clear map of Hogwarts. Anywhere they thought of suddenly appeared to them, and they watched the red dots with names on them appear suddenly, moving around as their owners moved through the castle. "Where'd you get this?" asked Tonks, amazed.

"It was made by Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus, Dad, and the traitor, back when they were students," explained harry, "though I'm willing to bet Wormtail's involvement was considerably less than the others. Anyway, look here. While most of the passages are blocked or caved in, these two here are still open and operational - one behind the Whomping Willow, and this one here behind the statue of the hunchbacked witch. He probably used the one leading under the Whomping Willow to get in, since he wouldn't have to worry about being hit by it."

"But how would the specter know about these passages?" asked Tonks.

"Wormtail," spat Harry. "He could have told the specter where they were before he died.

"Or... Wormtail could BE the specter!" declared McGonagall, eyes widening. "Sir Nicholas's death was a test of his abilities, but Hestia's was a fully-fledged assassination!"

Neville shook his head. "And leave it to that beady-eyed psychopath to be loyal to Vo-Voldemort even after he died."

"Well, that solves that," said Ginny. "Now comes the real question: How do we stop him for good?"

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"Good morning, Mr Black!" greeted the receptionist at the Ministry of Magic.

"Shhh... not so loud..." winced Sirius.

"Oh, sorry," said the receptionist, toning her voice down. "Sir, this is the third day in a row. Why is your hangover lasting this long?"

"Who ever said this is the same hangover?" he grunted. He let her examine his wand, then took it back and headed directly for the lifts. The small crowd gathered around the doors took one look at his face and parted like the Red Sea. He got into a car alone, and rode it to his floor.

He walked down the hall to his office, nodding at Dawlish and Kingsley Shacklebolt as he passed, then regretting it moments later. Soon, he was ensconced within his own private sanctum.

Reaching into his robe, into a special compartment that was much larger on the inside than the outside, he pulled out a large, concave dish, a thermos, and a vial. He set the dish on the floor, pouring the contents of the vial and the thermos into it.

"Thank god hangovers aren't as bad in dog form," he muttered, then shifted. He bent his head over the dish, and winced away at the foul odor. Steeling himself, he began lapping up the revolting concoction.

As he lapped, the headache and nausea faded, and soon the dish was empty. Shifting back to human, he was pleased to find the worst of his hangover long gone. "Ugh. Well, at least today is Paperwork Day. No serious strains to be pushing me beyond my limits."

Once seated behind his desk, Sirius grabbed a rather large set of papers from his 'In' box, and started flipping through them. "Evidence forms, approved warrants, conflict encounter reports... well, most of these actually look moderately important. I'm surprised."

"So how does it feel to be an important man?" asked a snarling, cold voice.

"Wha... YOU!" Sirius sprang to his feet, wand drawn and a stunner firing off wordlessly in a single motion. "How the hell did you get in here?"

Lucius Malfoy ducked the curse, and sent one of his own, ducking out of the side door. "I know this building like the back of my hand, Black! Do you remember four years ago, when threatened me in public? I swore then I would make you pay for defaming me in front of he who was once my son!" He shot a curse of his own, that same strange curse that had struck down and nearly killed Elphias Doge earlier in the summer.

"PROTEGO! You mean when you tried to get Dumbledore discredited, Hogwarts shut down, and both Harry and Ginny killed, all because of that stupid diary?" snarled the animagus, dashing forward and chasing Malfoy through the doorway.

The side door to Sirius' office didn't lead back to the Auror Headquarters, but rather to private stairs that led down to the Department of Mysteries. Lucius wasted no time darting down the stairwell, dodging curses as best he culd. An engorgement charm was a near hit, however, enlarging his hand to four times its normal size and making him clumsy enough to forgoe spellcasting for evasion for the moment.

As the two duelling enemies burst into the DOM, several Unspeakables screamed and rushed to get out of the way. "Clear the area! MLE Auror Inspector Sirius Black in pursuit of a known Death Eater!" yelled Sirius as he passed the first set of them. They rapidly spread the word, and soon the entire Department of mysteries was cleared.

"Just you and me, Malfoy," growled Sirius. "Just the way I wanted it."

"Finite!" barked Malfoy, as his hand shrunk back to its normal size. "And I suppose you want to win as well, eh, Blood Traitor? too bad we do not always get what we want!" His wand whipped in a dizzying array, and a barrage of spels flew shotgun style towards Sirius.

Diving out of the way, Sirius found himself falling through an open door. He landed with a thud in a round room, filled with numerous unmarked doors. But before he could turn around and go back out the way he came, the doors suddenly spun faster than he could keep track of them. "Just great," he muttered. "I think it was... THAT door!" He opened a door, and rushed through it.

Lucius Malfoy kept his wand focused on the portal he had seen his foe dive through a minute earlier. Realizing that Sirius was apparantly not going to come out, he flung open the door, and howled, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The bolt splintered a door across the room, but the place was deserted - merely a round room, with many unmarked doors lining the walls. He stepped in carefully, only to hear the one he walked in through close suddenly. The doors spun, and he realized he now did not know which door he had entered through. "No matter," he muttered, it was across from the broken one, which means it must be..."

He stopped in disbelief. None of the doors were broken, now. "You have GOT to be kidding me," he grumbled. "Now which way would that mangy mutt run?" Shrugging, he chose a door at random, and rushed through it.

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"Please, Minerva, allow me," squeaked Deputy Headmaster Filius Flitwick. "Lapidium Leviosa!" With a swish and flick, a small stone floated its way to the unusually even knot on the side of the Whomping Willow, and depressed it. The branches suddenly stilled, and the way to the passageway was clear.

"He was right," admitted McGonagall after a moment of examining the tunnel. "The wards do NOT extend underground. Well, we shall correct that, now, won't we?" The title of Headmistress had carried with it a tie to the school only one person could enjoy at a time, a tie that brought with it many abilities. One of these was the ability to fully sense the wards, and another to be able to manipulate them.

Reaching out with her will and her magic, McGonagall 'grabbed' th lower edge of the wards, all around the school, and began to concentrate. She quavered slightly, causing Flitwick to rush to help support her and even perform a charm to add his magical strength to her own.

Slowly, the wards seeped through the clay and loam, untill they met the bedrock the castle had as a foundation, She then began to turn them inwards, bringing them together to a point somewhere below where she guessed the Chamber of Secrets must have been from Harry's description. With a final SNAP! the wards closed completely, and she leaned heavily against both her diminutive collegue and the tunnel wall.

"It... is done. The wards now completely enclose the school, from above and below." She staggered back to her feet, and began to slowly and stiffly walk out. "Filius," she added. "Please send a patronus to Hagrid, and ask him to wait for us outside the willow. I fear that will be as far as I will be able to manage on my own two feet."

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The place was dark and spooky. It was empty, save for a raised daias on which stood an archway, with a black cloth hanging from it and flapping in a nonexistant breeze. Sirius shiddered, for he knew what it was. The Department of Mysteries studied many, many things in detail, and the subject of this room was one even the unspeakables and Aurors rarely mentioned. Here, was where they would, from time to time, study the darkest and most impenetrable mystery of all, for this was the infamous Death Chamber.

Circling around the room, the auror noted there was no other way out save for the door he had used to enter. The cat and mouse game he and Lucius had been playing had led to a few close scrapes, and more than a few damaged pieces of Ministry property - such as four shelves of prophesies, a few weird tentacled brains, and six out of nine planets. When one of them was destroyed, however, Sirius couldn't resist the urge to shout out, "Watch what you eat Malfoy! You just blew up Uranus!"

He could have sworn he saw the platinum blonde Death Eater enter this room, however, yet there was no visible sign... of COURSE! How else could he have gotten into the Ministry in the first place? "Accio Invisibility Cloak!"

Malfoy was ripped into view as a shimmering, silvery swatch of cloth was torn away from him. He stood on the daias, near the archway, his back to the shimmering curtain. "Just when I had managed to catch my breath, Blood Traitor," swore the wizard.

"Mine too," admitted Sirius with a wicked grin. They both leveled their wands, and howled out curses. "DEPULSO!" shouted Sirius

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" cried Malfoy.

Time seemed to slow as the two spells rushed towards each other. After agonizingly long milliseconds, the two spells met nearly halfway between the two wizards. Neither moved nor blinked, for neither one could react in so short a span of time.

And the two spells ignored each other, and sped on to their targets.

Sirius's spell impacted first, a great wave of nearly invisible concussive force. It hurled the bigoted pureblood backwards, crushing more than a few ribs as it did so. Even through his pain, however, Malfoy realized he was headed for the strange cloth-like veil that would mean his instant and total death.

But even as Malfoy screamed in horror at his own doom, the unstoppable killing curse had found its mark.Five minutes later, when a squad of MLE's burst into the room as part of the search pattern begun ten minutes before, all that was found was the cane and wand belonging to Lucius Malfoy, a shimmering invisibility cloak off near one wall, and the wide-eyed, anguished body of the late Sirius Black.

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A/N: I DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT! I'm sorry! But I had no chaice - this is something that HAD to happen. At least he lived about four months longer here than in canon...

And, lo... the hits just keep on comin'... By the way - 150,000 hits and 500 reviews, WOO-HOO!


	43. Chapter 43: Green and Gold

Disclaimer: I'm sorry if you stopped readng because I killed Sirius. But since I don't own the characters, what I do with 'em ain't official anyway. Not to mention you probably aren't reading this... 

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"Very good, Mr Weasley! That's the first time you've picked up a charm before Miss Granger!" praised Professor Flitwick.

Ron's ears turned red. "Th-thank you, sir. But... but I already knew it," he admitted.

"You did?" squeaked the tiny Deputy Headmaster. "But that's a NEWT level spell, where did you learn it?"

The redheaded wizard shrugged. "Harry and I have been practicing and, well, occasionally Sirius or Remus or... one of their friends... suggests something new to try. We learned that one over the summer, while Hermione was off vacationing with her parents."

Harry grinned at the expressions that played across Hermione's face. First, a twinge of jealousy that she wasn't the first, pride that Ron was, confusion about where he had learned it, and even slight embarassment at the memory of her brush with celebrity, then finally pride that her boyfriend had finally started to pay attention to his studies.

A knock on the doorway interrupted them. Glancing up, they all saw Professor Dursley at the door. He was pale and shaking, and his eyes seemed to hold a great deal of pain. "Pardon me, Filius... but I need to speak with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, please."

A sense of dread like he had never known filled the young wizard. He and his friends stood, and followed his uncle out of the classroom, and down the hall. It occurred to him that they were headed to where the entrance to the Headmas... Headmistress's office was, today.

Once inside, the Golden Trio noticed Ginny, Tonks, and Lupin were in the office as well. Ginny loked confused, while Remus and Tonks seemed to be in shock. She saw them enter, and rushed over, virtually diving into Harry's arms. "What's going on?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Professor McGonagall sighed. Her eyes were red, and her face seemed quite haggard. "Children," she began, "I have some... horrible news."

Suddenly the floo flashed green, and Dudley stepped through, accompanied by Viktor. Looking around, he started to ask something, but was stopped by his father's raised hand. Still holding on to Ginny's hand, Harry stepped over to be beside his cousin, knowing that there was no way that the news the Headmistress had would be anything short of horror. Viktor slipped out, knowing what was to come would be intensely private.

"There was... an attack... on the Ministry, today." McGonagall paused, and dabbed her eye with a frilly lace handkerchief. "Somehow, Lucius Malfoy managed to enter the building, possibly with some form of delivery or shipment, and cloaked with an Invisibility Cloak and numerous spells to avoid detection. He... he attacked Sirius Black.

"Both men are now... no longer with us."

As his knees gave way, and he heard the anguished wails of his friends and family, Harry could only think of just a few short weeks before, when he and Dudley had faced this very possibility.

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"Smart, smart little witchy," cackled Wormtail, examining the multicolored shields visible like concrete to his spectral form. "Pulled them up nice and tight, blocking my fun little tunnels, eh?"

He wandered some more, and found that, indeed, said wards continued all the way underground. No one wishing any ill intent towards any proper denizen of Hogwarts could enter at all, now.

Curious, he reached out and let the tip of a ghostly finger barely touch the surface of the wards. With a blinding flash, he was suddenly thrown backwards. "DAMN you, McGonagall... that hurt!"

Once he floated back to... well, an upright position, he began laughing his head off. "You made one mistake, Miss Headmistress Bitch of the Year!"

"You didn't lock me out... you locked me IN!"

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His shoulder was wet, and he held something warm and soft in his arms. Shaking his head out of the stupor the shock had induced, the memory washed over him. "Uncle... Uncle Sirius," he choked out.

Only seconds had passed since he had heard the news. In a way, he was grateful that the Headmistress had been so blunt, it was something nothing could hope to soften. Staggering back to his feet, he looked around the room.

The adults had apparantly already known. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had wrapped Dudley in a hug, and Aunt Petunia was looking worriedly out of the corner of her eye at the other children. Ron and Hermione were both still stunned, and just stared off into space. Meanwhile, Tonks had broken out into fresh tears, and Remus was doing his best to comfort her while dealing with the death of his closest and oldest friend, himself.

Ginny was still crying. He pulled her tight with one arm, then reached out with his other to Remus and Tonks, Sensing his intent, Tonks managed to collect herself long enough to add Ron and Hermione into the mix, while Remus reached out to the Dursleys.

Harry lost all sense of time, feeling only loss. Only the fact that it was shared even began to help easy the white hot agony searing through him. In his mind's eye, he recounted the faces of those that had died in just the past few months. Snape, Dumbledore, Hestia, and now Sirius. The memory of each of their deaths weighed heavily upon him, but especially that of his godfather. It was unexpected, he had loved the man, and he had not been able to say 'goodbye'.

Ron found himself entangled with Hermione and Tonks, so he simply pulled tight. He and Hermione weren't as close to Sirius as the others were, but he could do nothing but remember. Sirius dealing with Malfoy at Flourish and Blotts. Sirius giving Harry and him a ride on the flying motorbike when the barrier at Platform 9 3/4 was sealed by a well-meaning Dobby. Sirius as a professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, then making a humorous scene the following year about not being called 'Professor' anymore. These and other images and good times flashed through his mind, reminding him of what had just been lost.

Remus felt both immense pain, and an odd sensation of Deja Vu. The pain was almost identical to the pain of losing James and Lily, and with it came the shock of complete and utter lonliness. He was the last one, now. The last living Marauder, and the last LOYAL Maruader able to affect this world. He was alone, now... or he would be. There were still Vernon, Petunia, Tonks, Harry, and Dudley, all of whom had taken him into their hearts and into their family. For their sake, he would go on. For their love, he could endure.

Petunia and Vernon felt almost the same depth of pain as their children. They had known the auror since he was barely out of school (though Petunia for actually a little longer than that), and he had been a source of inspiration and an almost accidental wisdom. But they knew that their children needed them to be strong, and that Remus needed them, and that Tonks needed them. And so they stayed strong, the pillar of this huddled group.

Tonks thought of every memory she had of her beloved cousin. When she was six, and he teased her by transfiguring her hair into yarn... which promptly changed right back into hair the same bright pink as the yarn. His constant pep talks while she was at the Auror Academy, and even the tutoring he gave her which let her complete the training in two years instead of the usual three. And most recently, the heart to heart talks about Remus, and the advice he gave her which led to the werewolf finally confessing his love for her.

Hermione found her mind split almost in half. One side took great comfort in the embrace of her pseudo-family, though wishing desparately her own parents could be there. Remembering, laughing inside, and breaking up inside because of the loss. The other side of her mind whirled about, wondering if it was a specific assassination attempt, if the mission was approved by Voldemort, and half a dozen other rational questions that helped keep her from totally breaking down.

Dudley simply buried his face in his mother's shoulder and cried. His Uncle Sirius, who he had known as 'Uncle Simon' until Harry finally discovered he was a wizard, was gone. Someone in the Wizarding World had stolen him, and even they could not bring him back. Even worse, the man who had done this was beyond all vengeance or justice, and the only thing he could do was cry.

And finally Ginny simply cried. She cried for Sirius, who had been still very young, and had just lost his first girlfriend in five years; they had only been dating for four months, yet it was getting quite intense. She cried for Dudley, who had lost an Uncle, and she cried for Harry, who had lost his Godfather. She cried for Vernon and Petunia, who had lost a dear friend, Tonks who had lost a cousin, and for poor Remus, who lost the closest thing to a brother he would ever know. And finally, she cried because she could not picture a Weasley or Dursley or Potter birthday party without his wild stories, his outrageous jokes, or the occasional prank war between him and the twins. She cried for herself.

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Stewart Ackerly raced down the hall, clutching his books tightly but awkwardly. His bag had ripped on the way to History of Magic, and he had to stop to pick up all of his books and supplies. he was late, now, but didn't want to be any more late. Of course, he knew that Professor Binns would never even know he was late, but it was the principle of the thing. He was a Ravenclaw, after all.

Dodging around a suit of armor that had for some reason begun dancing a jig, he turrned down the final corridor that would take him to class. There was a ghost in the corridor, but not one he recognized. Not thinking, he simply nodded and said, "Hello!" as he passed.

His neck grew very, very cold, suddenly, and he was jerked off his feet. His books and supplies flew out of his hands, and he found himself dropped unceremoniously on the floor. "Now, that was a mite rude, you little Ravenbrat!" spat the spirit.

Stewart was stunned, and found his throat going slightly numb. He tried to apologize, but only a wheeze made it out of his nearly paralyzed voicebox. He looked directly in the spirit's eyes, and quite suddenly wished he hadn't.

"Well, who woulda guessed a swotty little Ravenclaw would be late to class?" cackled the ghost. His eyes, unlike those of Miss Perpetua (as she had become known to the students), or even the Bloody Baron, weren't glowing at all. Rather, they were sunken, empty sockets that seemed to promise only the darkness of the grave. His face was lean and pointed, with buck teeth that only added to his ratlike appearance, while his scrawny frame was slightly hunched, and he twitched as he circled the frightened student.

"What shall we do, what shall we do... Kill you?" he asked, suddenly darting right in the face of the now absolutely terrified boy. "Nah. Don't hate you... TOO much... so that's out. Oh! I know!"

Once again, those cold hands grabbed the boy, and with a hideous power, began dragging him down the corridor in the direction he had just come from. The door to Filch's office flew open, showing it was empty, and the boy dragged inside.

His screams continued for nearly half an hour before the caretaker returned to his office and let him out.

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The Gryffindor Four had been given a week off from classes out of respect for their loss, and Dudley had taken to staying in the Dursley's staff quarters as he, too, had been granted leave from school.

The funeral would be in three more days, and it was shaping up to be a true hero's farewell. Fudge, who had held onto his position with a tenacity and a will that suprised his previous detractors despite or perhaps because of his new condition, had posthumously awarded him the Order of Merlin Second Class for actions i direct defense of the Ministry, and was bound and determined to hold him up as an example for defying the darkness.

Harry and his friends, including Dudley, spent most of their time huddled together quietly in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry, specifically, had taken up watching people as a way to try to distract his mind from Sirius's death. He remembered all too well the conversation that had taken place on his birthday, and did not even want to think about any form of will or inheritance.

Something that Harry noticed for the first time was that some of the quieter Slytherins would occasionally come by for visits, especially the younger ones or those who had been specifically invited back during the Triwizard Tournament. None of them dared look in their corner, however, for whenever Harry was not consumed with grief, he was filled with a powerful rage against Voldemort and his followers. This was yet another crime to lay at the Dark Lord's feet, something else to blame him for.

Hedwig, more sensitive than ever to her master's moods, would act as a sort of sentry for them all. If someone strayed too close, or if the noise grew too loud, she would hoot a few times. After the first time, everyone learned this was a warning, and the cuts and scratches on Cormac McLaggen's hands and face healed nicely in less than two days.

It was only the day before the funeral that Harry finally started paying attention to what people were saying, and not just what they were doing.

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"He was tied to the old rack in Filch's office! It wasn't pulled all the way, that would have killed him, but his arms were out of their sockets, and his hips dislocated!", Orla Quirke was saying.

This immediately caught the attention of the Boy Who Lived. Nodding at Hedwig, she discreetely hopped onto the mantle, closer than he was, to listen in on the conversation.

"And he says it was a ghost who did it?" asked Romilda Vane. She was pale-faced, and evidently frightened by the subject.

"Yes. He says he didn't recognize the ghost, but he had a ratlike face, and he kinda twitched when he moved."

Harry was on his feet and moving towards the two fourth-year girls before anyone realized it. The Ravenclaw, Quirke, squeaked in fright and almost tumbled backwards, while Vane, the Gryffindor, merely started.

"Who?" Harry simply asked.

"S-stewart Ackerly," stammered Orla.

Harry glanced over at his friends and cousin, who were looking at him blankly. He sighed. "The ghost he described. He was describing Wormtail.

"The specter is in this castle somewhere. And I'm going to find him, and send him back to Hell," he declared, before storming out through the Portrait Hole.

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Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Dudley finally caught up with Harry in the Library, where he was trying to convince Madame Pince to let him into the Restricted Section. "It's for the safety of the entire school!" he insisted. "You remember what happened to Nearly Headless Nick!"

"For the last time, NO, mr Potter. This is a matter for the Headmistress and Deputy Headmaster, and I assure you they are doing all they can to deal with this specter!" she almost sneered. "Now run along, and if you MUST try to find a way to defend yourself, I suggest you do it with books you can already gain access to."

Furious, he stormed off, barely acknowledging the others. He did, however, grab Ginny's hand as he passed.

"Harry, where are you going?" asked Hermione as the others rushed to catch up.

"Room of Requirement," he grunted, hopping over the trick step. "Watch the step, Dudders, it'll trap you."

"Why?" asked Ron.

Harry glanced at Ginny with a raised eyebrow, and nodded back towards the library. "Of course!" she said, having figured out what he was saying. "Books we have access to!"

"Okay, now I'm confused," grunted Dudley. "What's this Room of Requirement, and how will being there let you have books from the library?"

Hermione caught on at this, and Ron soon after."Of course! Dudley, it's a room where whatever you can think of, if it exists, can be simulated. However, nothing created there can actually leave, it's just a representation of the thing. In the case of books, you can't take out the book itself, but you can take out the information after you read it!"

"So it's sorta like the Holodeck?" he asked.

Before Ron or Ginny could ask what a Holodeck was, Harry interrupted. "Pretty much, Dudley. Now hold on, gotta concentrate here, we're almost to the door."

"Harry, someone's already in there!" pointed out Ginny. Sure enough, the door was fully visible, with a gryphon-shaped knocker on it. "Looks like a Gryffindor."

"Well, since it's visible, whoever's in there must not mind company. We'll just pop in, and concentrate on books of spells to deal with specters," said Ron.

Harry grasped the handle, and opened the door, stepping inside. His friends and cousin followed, when the door suddenly slammed shut behind them.

Dudley grabbed for the door handle, which vanished the second he reached for it. "Huh, must not be 'real' enough for a muggle."

Ron stood next to him, and concentrated for a doorknob. What he got, instead, was a leering harlequin face, that simply cackled madly at him.

"Leaving so soon?" sneered a voice that sent chills down Harry's spine. "And you only just got here."

The voice seemed to come from everywhere, and yet nowhere at the same time. Looking around the room, Harry noted it looked like a small auditorium, with bare marble walls, just perfect for sound to bounce off and confuse them. "Okay, wherever you are, remove the disillusionment or the invisibility cloak!"

"Ah, why would I do that?" cackled the voice, "when I don't need either one?"

"Wormtail!" shreiked Hermione, recognizing the voice a half second before Harry did.

"Right in one!" rang the voice, and the greenish grey form of the traitor faded into view near the center of the room. "And welcome to my little... present for you, Potter. I must admit, I didn't expect you so soon, it's barely been a day since I had my fun with the swotty little Ravenbrat."

"STUPEFY!" shouted Harry, drawing and firing with a single, smooth action. Unfortunately, the red stunner passed right through the specter without effect.

"Tch, tch, tch, if you had read the right books, you would have known that wouldn't work," chided Wormtail. "Well, since you decided to join me in my little lair so early, why don't we have a little fun? You can't touch me, but I can certainly touch you. I wonder how the little redheaded slut feels," he leered.

"Don't you DARE!" roared Harry, and he interposed himself between his girlfriend and the man who betrayed his parents.

"Oh, don't be in such a hurry," complained Pettigrew. "I'll tear you to bits and pieces in just a minute. I just wanted to have a little fun, first." He grabbed the Boy Who Lived by the shoulders, and thrust him to one side. He kept one hand on Harry, and reached out with the other for Ginny, while Ron and Hermione started firing useless spell after useless spell at him.

"STOP!" rang out a new voice.

"Who's there?" snarled Wormtail. "Come out so I can kill you, too!"

"I'm here," came the voice, and a small army seemingly materialized in the room. The Bloody Baron, Peeves, Moaning Myrtle, the Fat Friar, Professor Binns, 'Miss Perpetua', and Nicholas Flamel, along with several other ghosts that they hardly recognized. Then a final form appeared, in front of all the rest, and glowing with a blinding golden light, brighter than the pale blue-white of the Hogwarts' Council of Spirits.

"Now," said Sirius Orion Black, "get your hands off my godson, you filthy traitor!"

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: You just can't keep a good dog down, can you? And the cavalry has arrived.

Heheheheheh... I TOLD you Sirius HAD to die... but I didn't say he wouldn't be back...


	44. Chapter 44: Endings but Not the End

Disclaimer: Bubble, bubble, toil and double, I don't own Harry, don't get me in trouble.

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Endings but Not the End

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Harry, Ginny, Dudley, Ron, and Hermione stared in shock at the golden apparition infront of them. Wormtail, however, literally quaked with fear. "You - you'er just a ghost! I'm a specter!" he snarled.

"Oh, no, not just a ghost," Sirius shot back. "I'm a revenant!"

Hermione gasped, the only one who knew what a revenant was. It was someone who died with thoughts of revenge on his mind, and a great tragedy before him. They existed solely to destroy the being or beings who caused the tragedy, and then would return to the grave, at peace at last.

"So?" sneered Wormtail. "I've got the boy! You try and come closer, and he dies!"

Sirius snorted. "You do, do you?"

"Yes, see, right... here? HOW did you do that?" he demanded, whipping out Nearly Headless Nick's rapier and backing towards one of the marble walls.

"Peevesy did it, yes indeed! Can't trick a trickster, wormy worm!" cackled the poltergeist, as he dropped the Boy Who Lived on a conveniently placed pile of cushions.

"Get out of here, kids," said Sirius softly. "I have a long history of scores to settle with the rat, here."

"No you don't!" protested the specter. "I've got a sword, and you're unarmed! We can't even do magic against each other!"

No sooner had he finished saying that when the sword popped easily out of his grasp, carried off by the fleeting form or Moaning Myrtle, who had snuck behind him. "Go away, nasty man!" she screeched. "And Sirius, don't dump him near my toilet, please?" she begged, batting her eyelashes at him.

"That's our cue," agreed Ron. "We do NOT want to be in here for this. Dudley, help me drag Harry out of here!"

Harry had not stopped staring at the spirit of his godfather, and tears were openly streaming down his face. He still sat on the cusions Peeves had dropped him on, and was beginning to reach out. "Uncle... uncle Sirius..."

Four hands snatched at him, and began dragging him away. "No! I have to help Uncle Sirius!" he shouted, and began struggling against them.

"I think he's lost it," grumbled his cousin, who used his superior size and strength to manhandle the boy who lived over his shoulder.

The last thing they saw as they left the Room of Requirement was Sirius advancing on Wormtail, surrounded by the Council of Spirits.

zzzzzzz

Voices began interrupting the nice nap Harry was having. He recognized the voices as coming from his friends and the Headmistress, but could barely make out what they were saying. Finally, they began to get louder, and he could understand them.

"And when we tried to get him out of there, he just freaked," explained Dudley.

"I see," said Minerva McGonagall. "A revenant... yes, Sirius had much to gain vengeance from Wormtail for."

Harry opened his eyes, wondering what they were talking about, when it all came crashing back. It was less than gentle when it did, and his head throbbed hard. "Gnaaaah," he groaned.

Six faces suddenly appeared in his field of vision. "Harry, you're awake!" exclaimed the one he recognized as Hermione.

"Back off, or I'm kicking you all out. Including you, Headmistres! He's my patient, and he needs rest, and you need to give him some room so he can breathe." protested Madame Pomfrey.

Harry rubbed absently at his temples. "I'm... I'm okay, Madame Pomfrey. I just have a killer headache."

Dudley blushed, and looked at the floor. "I... I'm sorry, Harry."

This confused the young wizard. "Sorry? Why?"

His cousin shrugged sheepishly. "You wouldn't calm down, and were just about going nuts, so I sorta... putyouinasleeperhold..."

"You what?"

Ron grinned slightly. "He put you in a sleeper hold, like we saw on that American wrestling fellytission show we saw over the hols."

"Television," idly corrected Hermione.

"Whatever," Ron replied, smiling slyly at her.

Something about that brief interplay struck Harry as slightly odd, but he let it slide. "So why didn't one of you wizard or witches just stun me?"

Ron shrugged. "Ginny and Hermione weren't much better off - Hermione was simply stunned, and Ginny was almost in a panic about you. I had to try to keep both of them from going psych on me."

Ginny punched him in the shoulder. "I was NOT in a panic!" she protested. "I was just... worried."

Harry smiled a bittersweet smile at her. "Of course." The smile faded, and worry etched every line in his face. "Is there... is there any word?"

The looks on their face told him. "So... none yet."

Headmistress McGonagall unconsciously began wringing her hands. "Not a single one of Hogwart's Ghosts have been seen since you young men and women left the Room of Requirement. And... and it's been over half an hour."

Madame Pomfrey showed up at that moment, holding a bright red potion, and of all things, a small wrapped candy. "Okay, Mr Potter, please chew and swallow the candy, then drink this mild pain potion."

Harry looked up at her curiously. "I understand the pain potion... but why the candy?"

The mediwitch smiled at him, then at Ron and Ginny. "It was something the troublemaking brothers of these two just sent me. And don't worry, it's been tested, and is quite safe. I'll tell you after you drink the potion."

Confused, Harry put the sweet in his mouth. It was slightly tart, like a muggle fruit chew, and was soft and actually quite good. Swallowing it, he took the vial of potion, steeled himself for the awful taste, then drank it swiftly.

"Whoah!" he exclaimed. "But... but how?" He started grinning, momentarily distracted from his worry.

"Huh?" said Ron. "What's the matter?"

"The pain potion - it was cherry flavored! But I thought you couldn't add anything to a potion to make it taste better, or it ruined it!"

Madame Pomfrey smiled, and glanced at the two Weasleys. "Be proud of your brothers, young miss and mister. They figured out how to get around that."

McGonagall smiled wryly. "They always were good at getting around hard and fast rules."

"But how?" insisted Harry.

"It was the sweet," explained Madame Pomfrey. "It's just a normal sweet, but it actualy changes your taste buds for five minutes after chewing it. Then, whatever you consume next will taste like whatever flavor the sweet was designed for. Imagine that sludge Skele-gro tasting like chocolate milk, for example."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Amazing! They're not changing the potion - they're changing the person TAKING the potion!"

"Precisely. Now, up and at 'em, Mr Potter!" barked the Mediwitch. "And I don't want to see you back here again, unless it's to visit, so keep out of trouble, please!"

"I... I can't promise to keep out of trouble," Harry said with a solemn face as he got onto his feet, "but I can promise to at least drop by and visit."

She reached out and ruffled his hair. "I guess that will have to do."

"Right. Umm, I'll see you!" he said, and immediately walked out the door of the Hospital Wing.

The others followed behind, while Headmistress McGonegall headed to her office. Finally, Hermione asked, "Where are we going? This isn't the way back to Gryffindor Tower?"

"It's not," agreed Harry, as he took a staircase that began pivoting to the left.

"Well?" added Ginny.

"Well what?"

"Well, where are we GOING, you prat?"

Harry looked at his girlfriend, no smile on his face. "We're going to wait outside the Room of Requirement until the ghosts come out. If they win, we're celebrating."

"And if they don't?" asked Dudley

"Then we do whatever we can to stop Wormtail."

zzzzzzz

Remus Lupin paced across the floor of the kitchen in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He had just recieved a most disturbing firecall, and what he thought was a mild expression of concern lined his face. Privately, thought both Tonks and Mundungus "Dung" Fletcher, also present, it looked more like heartstopping worry.

Dung leaned over to the bubblegum-haired auror. "Any clue wha's got 'im so worked up?"

Tonks shook her head. "I dunno. All he said was he had just gotten some news from Minerva, and it involved Harry and Wormtail, and the Castle Ghosts."

"Wormtail?" asked Dung, slightly confused.

"That was Pettigrew's nickname in school," explained Tonks. "Remus, Sirius, and Harry refuse to call him anything else, saying 'the real Peter died when he took the Dark Mark'."

"Oh." The two fell silent, and watched their friend pace back and forth for a while.

"Say, Dung... you never did say why you left your, umm, old business last year," noted Tonks.

The shabby man shuddered. "Let's jus' say that Diggory kid found out somethin' really narsty about one o' my... operations, wha' I didn' know meself. Scared me right nice an' proper, it did."

"Umm, right."

"Remus!" came a voice from the fire in the dining room, just outside the kitchen. The werewolf heard this, and bolted through the doorway, closely followed by his two fellows in the Order.

Minerva McGonagall's face was visiblle in the fire, and she looked very tired. "What is it?" asked Remus, ignoring the two behind him.

The Headmistress filled him in on all she had learned, though she had to compose herself to tell him about Sirius' current state. "And Harry just now left the Hospital Wing. I fear he has gone to assist his godfather."

"Step back then, Minerva, I'm coming through," said Lupin.

"So am I!" barked Tonks.

"I mi' as well, too," shrugged Dung.

"No, Mundungus, we need at least one person there at all times," said Minerva. "Very well, give me a moment to get to my desk."

Seconds later, Headmistress McGonagall, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks were leaving the seventh floor exit of the Headmistress's office, headed towards the Room of Requirement. They turned a corner, and saw a small crowd of youngsters, half asleep, leaning or sitting against the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, and just waiting.

Harry was more asleep than the others, and his face was buried in Ginny's hair, while Hedwig was perched in his lap, keeping watch. He wasn't really dreaming, but confusing images both horrible and wonderful danced through his mind. Two strong hands softly laid themselves on his shoulders and shook him slightly, as a happy mindcall came from his familiar. "Wha... huh?" He opened his eyes, straightened his glasses, and looked up. "Uncle Remus!" he happily exclaimed.

His exclaimation startled the others. Dudley grinned up at his other 'uncle', while the students glanced sheepishly at the Headmistress. "And just what are you doing here?" said Headmistress asked, secretly relieved they had the sense not to enter on their own.

"Waiting," said Ron.

"Is there... is there any word?" asked Remus.

"Well..." started Hermione, "about ten minutes ago, we saw a green hand reach through the door, then a gold one snatched it by the wrist and yanked it back."

"So we think Uncle Sirius is really givin' it to him good!" smirked Dudley.

The group waited in silence for nearly half an hour longer. The Room of Requirement had apparantly been requested to be soundproof, for there was absolutely no sign of what was happening inside. The various couples leaned into each other, while McGonagall stood straight and unbowed, and Dudley paced back and forth.

Finally, a faintly blue-grey figure shimmered through the door. "It... is done," said the Bloody Baron.

The living beings threw open the door and rushed inside the room. Sirius, still shining gold but far dimmer than he had ben stood over the floating... form... of Wormtail. Two other forms floated as well in the room, and they realized that Hogwarts had now lost the Fat Friar and Moaning Myrtle to the Specter before he could be destroyed.

Peeves seemed to still be quite agitated. He was repeatedly kicking and pounding on the ectoplasmic Wormtail, shouting incoherant things. Nicholas Flamel floated over, along with Miss Perpetua, to flank the Bloody Baron and accompany the mortals.

On hearing the door open, Sirius looked up, and smiled wryly. "Heya, Pup, Dud. Remus. Cuz. Everybody else."

"It's... it's over?" asked Harry.

"Yep."

"Does this mean... does this mean you're going away now?" asked Dudley, voicing the fear that Harry could not manage to.

"That... depends," admitted Sirius, as the golden glow dimmed even further.

"On what?" asked Tonks.

Sirius floated over to Headmistress McGonagall. "I... I might be able to be just a regular ghost, now... and if I can," he said, "woud it be possible for me to make this my haunt?"

Harry gasped. "But... but what unfinished business can you have?"

Sirius smiled and cocked his head. "Why, you and Moony, of course! My unfinished business is making sure the two of you are happy for the rest of your lives."

Remus blinked back tears. "That means... you won't..."

"Right. I'll only be a ghost as long as the two of you are alive. When the last one of you dies, I'll be there to walk beside you to the other side."

"That's my cuz," sniffed Tonks. "Loyal to a fault."

"Be that as it may, he was never a Hufflepuff, and so may not take a position as that House's ghost," noted the Bloody Baron. "Madame Headmistress, may I add my voice to the request that Sirius be allowed to stay?"

Flamel chuckled. "Well, well, the Slytherin House Ghost sticking up for a quintessential Gryffindor."

"He IS my descendant," shrugged the Baron.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron, with Ginny and Dudley right behind them, had wandered over to the inert form of Moaning Myrtle. "She... she never... I mean, nobody ever really..." sniffed Hermione.

Ron pulled her tight. "Maybe... but she helped us. Remember? She kept our secrets, and she helped us back in second year. And just now... she... well, she helped us again."

"Myrtle Abercrombie," noted the Baron. "Not an exceptional student, or an exceptional Slytherin. But n the end, the second one, she became what she always could have been."

McGonagall looked at Sirius. "Young man... you have a home here for as long as you wish." She then wandered over to the Fat Friar. "Friar Maxwell... Always so cheerful and optimistic, even in death..."

Peeves, by this time, had finished venting his anger at Wormtail's cawl, and floated over to join her. "Never got angry with Peeves, he didn't," he moaned. "And laughed with Peeves when Peeves pranked him. Always convinced the Council to give Peeves second chances, he did."

The poltergeist floated silently beside the Hufflepuff House Ghost before floating over to Myrtle. "Andshe... she helped me sometimes, she did. A lookout, she was. She was... she was Peeves' friend." The spirit looked confused, as if he wanted to cry but didn't know how. Finally, he shrugged. "Peeves will be... will be somewhere else a while." And without warning , he faded into nothingness.

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News of the previous night's events flooded the Great Hall the following morning. Harry and his friends were deluged with people wanting to know what happened, especially the Hufflepuffs.

It was two days later when they held the memorial for the Fat Friar and Moaning Myrtle. The Grey Lady briefly showed up, as the Friar had been a good friend to her, and she kissed the ghost of Sirius, still slightly golden tinged, most soundly in thanks for avenging her lover. As the Friar had been considerably older than Sir Nicholas, his memorial was far more crowded, at least from the spirit side. However, Peeves was not present, and the only hint that he even still existed was a pack of empty water baloons, carefully placed from nowhere onto his memorial.

With no Hufflepuff House Ghost, the Council of Spirits was not seen for several days. When they returned, Sirius was among them. He was blue-grey like the rest, no longer golden, but with his trademarked easy smile and flashing eyes.

With them was a newcomer - the new Hufflepuff Ghost. Every male in the Great Hall stared, jaws open, as the seductive spirit slowly sauntered and sashayed up and down the Hall, before settling in at the table. She was absolutely gorgeous, wearing a loose tunic off one shoulder, and a sash tied around her waist over flowing skirt, making her resemble a gypsy. Her long hair flowed down her back like a waterfall, and her eyes flashed merrily as she began conversing with the students now in her care.

"Everyone, I would like to introduce the new Hufflepuff House Ghost - Elladora Ketteridge, who discovered the properties of Gillyweed," announced the Bloody Baron.

Ron leaned over to Harry. "Ten Galleons says next year's firsties have a record number of Hufflepuffs."

Harry shook his head, chanting 'Ginny's for me, Ginny's for me, she's just a ghost' in his head. "No way mate. Sucker bet."

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A/N: Okay, the problem with the spirits os over... now it's time for the REAL action to begin! 


	45. Chapter 45: Darkness Falls

Disclaimer: Standard statement of non-ownership, praise and chocolate frogs to JKR

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Darkness Falls

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As the days passed, it was a common sight to see the ghost of Sirius flirting outrageously with the Hufflepuff ghost, who would tease him and flirt back almost as outrageously. More than once, one of the Professors would ask them to tone it down as their double entendres grew more and more blatant, highly distracting any students they passed.

Harry and his friends walked past the flirting pair, earning a wink from his godfather and a promise to talk to them later. "So Moldy Shorts has lost both Lucius and Wormtail," mused Ron. "I bet he's plenty upset."

Nodding, Harry replied, "I bet. And I'm sure glad I have the familiar bond, or I'd prolly be in the Hospital Wing from the pain."

Hermione, however, was chewing on a lock of her wild, bushy hair. "He's been too quiet, otherwise, though."

"Why d'ya say that, 'Mione?" asked Ron.

"Because I've read all about the last War, and it was nothing like this at all," she huffed. "He'd have six or seven plans all working at once, and even if two or three got foiled, he'd still have another three or four that succeeded."

"Maybe he's spread too thin?" asked Ginny. "You know, he DID lose most of his inner circle at the attack on Hogwarts, not to mention the things that happened the past few days."

"Maybe," the brilliant witch replied unconvincingly. "Or maybe he's doing something we'll have no warning about."

"Like what?" asked Harry. He sent a mental note to Hedwig to be on the lookout whenever she could, just in case, because what his friend just said seemed to click somewhere inside him.

"I don't know. An assassination attempt, or maybe something horrid like he did last Christmas."

Remembering the first and most horrific of all his visions, Harry shuddered. "Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," apologized Hermione. "But... but we have to be prepared if he is."

He sighed. "I know, Hermione. I just don't like thinking about those kids."

Ginny leaned into him. "Sorry to break this up, but that's the Charms corridor," she grumped. "I'll see you after class!" she called, breaking away to head to her classroom.

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"So this is the famous Harry Potter," growled Mad-Eye Moody, leaning over ever so slightly to look the young man eye and magical eye to eye. "Doesn't look like much. A little rangy, but we all know that ain't got nothing to do with power."

Harry's eyes hardened slightly. The last time he had met this man, he was actually an imposter - the Death Eater Barty Crouch Jr in disguise. "Of course not, Mr. Moody. After all, if the appearance of the body belied the power of a wizard, one would assume you have little power left at all," he snarled, glancing down at the wooden leg and then pointedly looking at the twirling magical eye and the chunk mising from his nose.

"Potter!" admonished Headmistress McGonagall.

Moody suddenly laughed, a hard and grating sound. "Now that's spirit," he said. "Let him be, Minerva, good to see he's got a strong will. Now, I've been told some things about you, Potter, I simply cannot believe, and Lupin told me you'd be willing to prove them to me."

"And what exactly would that be?" asked the Boy Who Lived. "First, Second, Third, Fourth, or Fifth years?"

"All of it," declared the retired auror. "Well, except fifth year. There's photos and eyewitness accounts that you fought side by side with Albus Dumbledore and held your own, Not many wizards and witches alive can say that, you know."

Harry nodded slowly, knowing that the three of them in the Headmistress's office could all say the same thing. "Then... then I guess you'll want to see the memories, huh?"

Moody nodded. "Know how to use one, do you?"

"Grampa Albus showed me how during our... private lessons last year." Thinking of those lessons, Harry almost cursed himself. He needed to find those horcruxes soon. Voldemort was laying low for now, but who knew how long that would last.

"Alright boy, get to it," grumped Moody.

Stepping up to the stone basin, Harry placed his wand to his temple, and then drew out specific memories, one by one. Encountering the possessed Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest, feasting on Unicorn blood. The entire quest for the Philosopher's Stone, from the moment they put Fluffy to sleep until he passed out. Going after Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets. Facing off Wormtail, the time turner, and his magnificent Patronus. All three tasks of the Tri-Wizard tournament, including the Battle of Little Hangleton. The nightmare from Last Christmas - all of the green eyed children being slaughtered for a "Christmas Gift" from Voldemort to Harry. And finally the Battle of Hogwarts, from when they landed on the tower until the smoke had cleared. "There. That's the most significant ones, I think," he grumbled back.

Moody stepped forward, and placed his hand into the pensieve. His face went slack, and the magical eye stopped spinning in its place. His blinking slowed down, and he seemed to go into a trance.

Harry leaned over to the Headmistress. "Is that what it looks like when someone enters a memory?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry," she said, then put one arm over his shoulders, idly noting he was taller than she was now.

Harry noticed three things at this point. The first was that she was referring to him by his first name, something she had almost never done before. Second, she was attempting to give him some sort of support, knowing how hard those memories were on him. And third, that he was grateful for it. Somehow, the old transfiguration teacher had managed to work her way into his heart, like a strict maiden aunt that would always be there for him.

They waited for nearly two hours, before Moody came back to himself. He gasped aloud, and fell back onto one of the tall wingback chairs placed neatly around McGonagall's desk. "Merlin's ghost," he wheezed, then reached into his coat pocket for his flask. Harry could smell the overpowering odor of double-strength firewhisky wafting from the open top, but the aged auror simply chugged it back like water.

"There, now," snarked Harry. "Believe it?"

"Harry," warned McGonagall.

"Sorry, Aunt Minerva," he grinned at her.

As the Headmistress tried to recover from being flustered by Harry's appelation for her, Moody looked up at the young man. "Twelve years old, and you killed a basilisk! And that patronus! By Merlin, if I hadn't seen those memories, I'd have denied it 'till the day I died!" His eyes were wide, and the magical eye had stopped spinning in its socket, and was looking directly at Harry.

This made him slightly uncomfortable. "There's... there's one more memory you both should see," he admitted. First, he used his wand to return the memories to his mind, wincing as the emotions associated with them suddenly grew stronger and more despairing. Steeling himself, he remembered the summer after his first year, when Dumbledore had revealed the Prophesy to him, then placed that in the basin and swirled it around a bit.

"What... what is it, Harry?" asked McGonagall.

"This is why everything seems to happen to me," he said. "The other core members of the OGL know, but I don't think you do."

He tapped the silvery liquid with his wand, then willed it to play back. The ghostly image of himself facing Professor Dumbledore, a pensive between them, rose up above the real pensieve.

"Brace yourself, Harry, what I am to show you is something no one else, not even your Aunt and your many Uncles, must know." The ghostly Dumbledore touched his wand to his forehead, and dragged a tenebrous silver strand to the penseive. A scene appeared, floating above, of a roughly appointed room. The headmaster was there in the memory within the memory, as was a woman who might have been attractive, except for her horrendously overcolorful outfit, caked on makeup, and buglike eyes bulging behind huge glasses.

Suddenly, the woman in the image stiffened, and a voice that no human throuat could utter began speaking with her mouth. "THE ONE WITH THE power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies"

As the images faded, leaving Harry, McGonagall, and Moddy alone in the office, he became quite aware of the deafening silence that filled the room. He wished Fawkes was there at the very least, as he saw the gazes of the two adults, because phoenix song always made him feel better.

"Well, now that's a bit of a shock," admitted Moody. "So THAT'S why Albus had us guarding the prohpesy room at the Department of Mysteries."

Harry grinned, trying to break the ice. "Yeah, until Tonks' clumsiness broke it."

"At... at least you didn't have to bear this knowledge alone," admitted McGonagall after a bit of a pause.

Moody seemed to snap to attention, then began pacing around Harry. "Ye've shown good reflexes," he admitted,"but not much tactical sense. You rely too heavily on your friend Ron Weasley for that. And too much on Hermione Granger for research."

"One of the things Grampa Albus said to me, right after he showed me that, was that I may be the one to strike the killing blow, but I don't neccessarily need to be alone when it happens," retorted Harry. "I'm like the tip of a spear. Ron and Hermione and Ginny, and all the rest of the OGL, are the haft and blade. I don't NEED to do it all myself. I just need to be a better fighter, and I need to..."

"Need to what?" barked Moody.

"I'm sorry, sir, but... but that's a Need To Know bit of information," he admitted, then glanced at the sleeping portrait of Dumbldore.

"He hasn't woken yet," said McGonagall, noting his gaze. "It often takes as much as two years for a Headmaster's Portrait to awaken."

Moody glared. "Then starting next term, you're getting an extra class. You and all the so-called OGL, in school or not."

"What sort of class?"

"Auror level combat training," rumbled the man. "And every little dirty trick I know just this side of the Dark Arts."

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The demonic form paced around the room, thirty pair of eyes focused entirely on it. Red, slitted eyes balefully regarded every single one of them, and the hand that gripped its want twitched like a dying tarantula. "This issss... not pleasing to hear."

A lone man, wrapped in black robes and wearing a skull-like half mask shook on his knees. "M-my Lord, I may only offer my life for my failure. I only beg that you..." the man paused in thought, then continued. "Th-that you allow me one chance to kill a mudblood before you destroy me... and that you permit me to continue to serve you after death, as Wormtail did."

With an almost inhuman speed, the white-skinned thing suddenly crouched before the man, grasping his quivering jaw in bony fingers. "You beg, do you... but not for your life? How... fascinating. Perhaps you think that if I killed you, you would be free of any punishment I could inflict, eh?"

"N-no, Master! I only wish to serve, and I deserve whatever punishment you choose to inflict!" chattered the Death Eater, taking great care not to remove his jaw from his master's grasp.

The Dark Lord gripped ever so tighter, tight enough that those nearby could hear the creaking sound of the man's jaw beginning to crack. "You... disgust me," he spat, tossing the man nearly thirty feet across the floor, sliding with a sickening thump into the wall. "Alcipeter! Take this filth to the second room on the third floor. I shall deal with him later."

As the so named Death Eater rushed to carry out his master's will, the Dark Lord continued, speaking to the rest. "Wormtail's spirit has been destroyed. That blood traitor, Sirius Black, denied Lucius Malfoy the opportunity to serve me after death by sending him through the veil. Tell me, would I be better served by you incompetant lot of wizards and witches? Or should I simply slay you all and convert you to inferi, that I may at least know you will be able to carry out the simplest of instructions?"

Silence met his supposedly hypothetical question. "Cowards, the lot of you!" roared Voldemort, the volume sending more than one of those gathered to their knees, grasping at their ears. "I have lost control of Slytherin House, and most of your children. Half of my Inner Circle remains in Azkaban, while the rest seem incapable of even the simplest tasks. Dumbledore is dead! Potter is just a child! I should be able to take this nation at my leisure, but I am betrayed by your incompetance!"

As Voldemort spoke, the temperature of the room began to chill. Upon the conclusion of his rant, several Death Eaters close to the door began to tremble, and more than one actually slumped to the floor, murmuring jibberish. The Dark Lord looked up as they did so, and his mouth straightened to a long, thin line that would have passed for an evil smile on a more human face. "Ahh, it appears my guest has arrived. Thomlinson! Open the door for my new ally!"

One of the Death Eaters stood, ad braved the chill long enough to open the door, then scurried as fast as he could back to his spot. Wafting in, cloak blowing in an unseen breeze, a form from the nightmares of a thousand men made itself known. It superficially resembled the Death Eaters, but its black robes and cloak were ragged and stained with an unknown foulness, while its hood completely covered whatever it may have had for a face. Hands comprised of bone, tendons, and rotted flesh emerged from its sleeve, and frost formed on the ground beneath it wherever it went.

"Welcome, welcome. Please, join me here at the head of the room," invited Voldemort, seemingly immune to the physical and spiritual chill emanated by this abomination. "We have much to discuss, you and I."

The monstrous thing floated forwards, not caring about the forms that toppled over in terror and memory as it passed, before stopping directly in front of the thing that had once been Tom Riddle. It bowed once, at the waist, then gestured back at the humans who remained.

"Oh, most certainly, my friend. All of you!" he barked, sneering at the Death Eaters. "Begone! Take your... friends.. if you must. But any who remain in a minutes time will be gifts to the Master Dementor!"

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"Gah, of all the time for Binns to fully wake up and remember what it is he was supposed to be teaching," griped Ron as he flipped pae after page in his History of magic textbook, trying to find anything he could about the Chinese Alchemist Sun Ssu-Miao, and the contributions his book "Tan chin yao chieh" had on modern useage of Mercury in potions and as a componant for rituals.

"Well, the loss of Sir Nicholas, Myrtle, the Fat Friar, and the leaving of the grey Lady was probably a bit of a shock to him," admonished Hermione. "Besides, now we can actually learn something in that class."

"Not to mention get House Points awarded to the correct house," smirked harry. "But why start all the way back with Chinese Alchemy? Weren't we supposed to cover that back in Third year?"

"Did someone say Chinese Alchemy?" came a voice behind the three Sixth years. They turned to see their new House ghost, Nicholas Flamel. "I happen to know more than a little about the subject," he added with a sly smile.

"Err, yeah, we did," admitted Ron, who then outlined their assignment.

"Hmm... You do know that was Fifth Year material when I was here, right? The curriculum seems to change every few decades or so. Still," continued the ghost as he metaphorically rolled up his sleeves, "let's see what I can contribute."

"Hey, no fair!" called out another voice. Turning, they saw the ghost of Sirius. "Nearly Headless Nick never heped us with OUR homework!" he joked.

"That's because, and no offense to the man, he was never the best of students," admitted Flamel. I taught him when he was here, and also learned how he came about his most unfortunate initial demise."

"Oh?" said Harry, eager to hear about something other than alchemy. "How'd it happen?"

"Well, word got out in some of the local Noble courts that Sir Nicholas was a practicing wizard. One young noblewoman approached him, wanting him to correct her crooked teeth. Well, he miscast the spell, and turned her teeth into those of a warthog's. Despite his constant claims he could fix the situation, the woman's husband immediately sent him to the chopping lock, and deliberately blunted the axe to be used. And the rest, of course, you know."

"Wow... Well, at least he was a good man," admitted Hermione, unwilling to say anything bad about the deceased dead.

"That he was. But those were different times, as well. And sad to say, if he had not been executed by the Lord Grieve, he would likely have ended up being imprisoned by the Wizard's Council, for breaking the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy." Flamel sighed. "Now, back to Alchemy. I assume you're researching Sun Ssu-Miao because of his various treatises on elixers made from mercury, sulfur, and arsenic?"

Before they could continue, the portrait hole burst open, and Parvati, Ginny, and Cho rushed in. "Have you heard?" asked Ginny in a breathless rush.

"What? What happened?" asked Harry as he bolted to his feet and snatched up his wand.

"The Dementors - they've attacked the Crouch Estate, and taken all the prisoners with them! The warden is the only survivor, and only because his Patronus was too strong for the Dementors to overcome!"

"Wonderful," groused Harry.

"Ayup," said Sirius. "Looks like your break time is over, oh Chosen One."

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A/N: Sun Ssu-Miao is an actual Chinese Alchemist in history, though the veracity of his claims in 'Tan Chin Yao Chieh' is of course dubious. And coming up in the next few chapters? Why, the actual war will begin, of course! 


	46. Chapter 46: Plots and Plans

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter - I don't. 

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Cedric rubbed his hands over his eyes, and sighed. "So we have to find Hufflepuff's Cup, some kind of artifact of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's, and that ugly snake?" he asked.

"Exactly," replied Harry, nodding. Hedwig copied her master's movements, then fluffed her feathers.

"But how will we find that second horcrux if we don't know what it is, or if it belonged to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?" asked Cho, her brows furrowed.

"We don't have to know what it is," piped up Ron.

"What?" said Hermione. "That's ludicrous, how can we find something if we don't even know what we're looking for?"

The term was coming to an end, and the core members of the OGL were meeting for the last 'official' time in the Room of Requirements. All of them bore the strain of the past several weeks, and not just from tests, NEWTs, or OWLs.

With his followers freed and the dementors on his side, Voldemort had begun a wave of terrorist style violence across the British Isles. Focused mainly on muggles, he had led massacres in Montrose Scotland, Portsmouth England, and many other, smaller towns and cities. Yet muggles weren't the only ones who died - twelve aurors had been killed in the fighting, including two who were members of the Order of the Phoenix. Neither was well known to the members of the OGL, but the fact that the older Order had already suffered even more losses hit them hard.

Ron paced around the Room of Requirement. "What's important is WHERE, not WHAT," he insisted. "Look at how the Locket was intended to be hidden. It wouldn't have mattered what it was, only that it was in the bottom of that basin. It could have been Ravenclaw's favorite quill, or Gryffindor's toothbrush, the end result would have been the same."

Harry stood up and stretched, hearing his back pop in more than a few places. Hedwig hooted at him for disturbing her perch, then flew over to rest on Ginny's shoulder. "Ron's right. I mean, we already know the 'what' for Hufflepuff's Cup, but not the where. Knowing what something is doesn't mean you know where it is."

Hermione sighed. "You're right. Well, then, how do we figure out where the last two non-living horcruxes are?"

Parvati leaned against Viktor. "Well, how did Dumbledore know that locket was supposed to be in that cave?"

Ginny blinked. "Because it was someplace important to Voldemort."

"Then that is likely where ze rest are," murmured Fleur. Gabrielle had fallen fast asleep by this time, and the French girl did not want to wake her sister up by speaking too loud.

"You mean someplace important to Voldemort? Makes sense," nodded Cedric.

Hermione stood up, and walked past the side wall of the Room of Requirement three times, picturing what she needed. Sure enough, a white dry-erase board and muggle markers appeared. "Okay, so let's brainstorm on some possible locations that might have meaning to the Dark Tosser," she grumbled.

"Hermione!" chirped Cho.

Parvati giggled. "She always gets cranky when she's tired."

"Tell me about it," grumbled Ron. Then, realizing what he had just said, he turned beet red. "I-I mean, remember Third year, when she was so tired she clobbered Malfoy?" he added.

"Nice save," mouthed Harry.

Viktor grumbled. "Well, there was the Orphanage... the cave near the Orphanage... Hogwarts itself... and the forest in Albania."

Ginny nodded. "Don't forget the cemetery in Little Hangleton."

"And..." Harry swalloed a lump that appeared in his throat. "And Godric's Hollow."

"His mother's childhood 'home,'" muttered Cedric.

Hermione dutifully wrote each one of these ideas down. "Okay, we can scratch off his mother's 'home', that's where Professor Dumbledore found the Ring. And the Locket was supposed to be in the cave near the orphanage." She marked a double set of thick black lines through each of these.

Harry looked at Ginny, and gripped her hand, even as Hedwig gently nipped her ear. "I... I think the Diary was supposed to be the Hogwarts item. It'd be almost useles pretty much anywhere else."

A single black line marked through that option. "Why not a double line?" asked Ron.

"Because we're not sure," said the bushy haired witch. Her hair was especially frazzled tonight, from the combination of exam stress, and having spent so much time that evening going over their options.

"Right. Well, the Gaunt Ring was at the Gaunt home... and the Locket was where he first discovered he could do magic. So what would he hide in the Orphanage itself?" asked Cedric.

"A trophy of that time, perhaps," rumbled Viktor. "But I do not think there would be a horcrux there. It is too close to the cave, and I suspect Voldemort would prefer greater space between his little baubles."

A single black line marked through the Orphanage. "For the same reaon," added Hermione, "I think we can tenatively rule out the Little Hangleton graveyard. Besides, that was important to him AFTER he was reborn, not before, when he was making and placing the Horcruxes." A single black line marked that one out.

Harry looked at the list. "That leaves... that leaves Albania... and Godric's Hollow."

"Why Albania?" asked Parvati.

"That's where his spirit fled after the curse on Harry rebounded," said Viktor. "It would seem to be a random place on first glance, but I think not. I believe it was the location of one of his horcruxes, to draw his spirit so."

Cedric suddenly shifted in his seat. "Godric's Hollow is right out, Hermione," he said.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Of course!" said Hermione. "If he had succeeded at making a horcrux there, then he wouldn't have needed to turn Nagini into one!"

Ron fixed Harry with a glare, knowing one subject that had been troubling his best friend. "You hear that? That means you can't be a horcrux, either. If you were, Nagini wouldn't be."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Right, mate. But that only leaves one definite place, and three possibles. Can anyone think of anyplace else?"

Cho snapped her fingers. "Borgin and Burkes!" she blurted out. "Not only is it the place he first worked at, it's also where he was when he learned the whereabouts of the Cup and Locket!"

Voktor nodded. "Although it would be a place that would need to be guarded more by guile than force," he noted.

Hermione added it to the list. "Okay, we have a vague idea where, and what doesn't matter. All we need now is who and when."

Cedric walked up, and put a C next to 'Albania'. "The 'when' would probably be best during the early days of the Summer hols, before midsummer. And I think it would be best if Viktor and I went to Albania. We're full adults, and neither of us lives at home anymore, so no one can tell us what to do."

Cho bristled. "Maybe, but you BETTER keep yourself safe - and yes, that's what -I- am telling you to do!" she barked.

"Yes d-dear," Cedric stuttered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

Ron chuckled. "Meow -whikasssshh!" he said, making a sound effect like a cat followed by a whip cracking.

"RON!" barked Hermione.

"S-sorry," he muttered, ducking down close to the table.

Viktor laughed. "Now that we haff established that all of the men are well and truly whipped, who shall go to Borgin and Burke's?"

Harry grumped. "That's a serious problem. We can't exactly pop into Knockturn Alley and waltz into his shop, saying, 'Hello there, we're horcrux inspectors. Mind if we search your shop of a fragment of the soul of the most vile Dark Lord in a thousand years?' you know."

Ginny grinned. "We can't... but I know who can."

"You don't mean..." began Harry.

"I do," she replied, the grin spreading and turning more wicked by the second.

Fleur, fighting a smile, threw the back of her hand up against her face. "Oh no, Ginny! It's too horrible to even consider!"

Harry put his hand on Ginny's shoulder, and shook his head ruefully. "There are some things that are just too evil," he intoned. "And that just might be one of them."

"What are you referring to?" asked Viktor.

"Oh, you never really got to know them," said Ginny. "But I think the people to 'search' Borgin and Burkes' might be my brothers. You might remember from the Tournament - the twins, Fred and George?"

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"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" screamed Colin Creevey, throwing his Potions text onto the floor, and jumping up from the couch. "AAAAAGH!" he yelled, turning to face the Gryffindor Four. "RRRAAAAAAAGGHHHH!" he cried, running seemingly for his life out of the portrait hole, nearly tripping over his half-forgotten camera in his haste to leave the crowded Common Room.

Neville shrugged, and hopped over the back of the couch, taking Colin's place. Moving the younger boy's books aside, he began work on his own revising for Potions.

Hermione shook her head. "There's always at least one who cracks like that," she said.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "And last year we thought it would be you."

"It would have, if it wasn't for you three," she admitted.

Harry dropped his head into his Transfiguration book. "Frogs into Frogs... Amphibians into cape fasteners... WHY must there be puns on the exam?" he wailed.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe the person who wrote the test was a friend of Dumbledore's?"

A voice behind them startled them. "Not quite," came the slightly chirpy voice of Nicholas Flamel. "More like he WAS Albus."

Harry glanced at his textbook, and felt a private smile drift across his face. "Figgers. Grampa Albus always had an odd sense of humor."

About this time, the portrait hole opened, and a sheepish Colin Creevey crawled back into the Gryffindor Common Room. "Umm, sorry about that, guys," he said, blushing.

"No problem," said Luna, who was visiting Neville. "You just happened to get a case of the Wigglynarves."

"The Wiggly...wha?"

Neville bit back a laugh. Luna had winked at him, which was the only reason he knew she was just putting the poor lad on. "Oh, right, the Wigglynarves. Nasty buggers, RIGHT, Hermione?"

"Huh? Oh, right. They, umm, just float through the air and, umm, settle on textbooks. If... If you see one, they make you go insane for a couple minutes." She then nodded, as if the gesture could prove what she said was true.

"Oh. Right," said Colin. "Umm, Neville, can I have my seat back?"

"Nope. You snooze, you lose."

"Oh. Well, I'll, umm, study up in the dorm, I guess." He gathered up his books and drifted up the stairs.

"Wigglynarves?" asked Hermione incredulously once the younger boy was out of earshot. "Really, Luna."

"Would you have prefferred Dark Nargles, Hermione?" she asked sweetly.

"N-no, that's quite alright." The studious Gryffindor turned back to her books and her boyfriend while the rest of the common room burst into laughter.

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"Rudolphus! That family to the left is running! Destroy them!" hissed Voldemort.

The nearly full moon gave a blue cast to the horrific events of that evening. Edzell, a small town in Scotland, had the horrible luck to fall prey to the Death Eaters that night. Just a year or two ago, and there would have been help near at hand for the poor people, as a military base there had secretly also been a forward base for Ministry aurors. But with the muggle budget cutbacks, RAF Edzell had closed its gates just eight months before, leaving the Ministry with no excuse to station Aurors there.

"My lord," called MacNair. "The Dementors report no further resistance on the West side of this muggle hovel."

"Exxxxxcellent. Ooh, good show, LeStrange," he admired as his lieutenant used a particularly vile hex to kill the fleeing family with the exploding form of their youngest child. "Children make such useless inferi, after all."

"Hsssst... thisss isssss borrring," came the parseltongue voice of Nagini. "There isss no challenge here, sssss..."

"Now now, my dear," soothed the Dark Lord. "We must build our armies, first, and Inferi make such excellent curse fodder. The Giants have refused us, the Vampires prefer to sit and wait, and the werewolves are split into two camps. Curse that Lupin for giving them hope," he rumbled.

"Yesss, cursssse him," replied Nagini eagerly. "Curssse him, and desssstroy their hope!"

On any other man, the expression could have been called an evil grin, but on Voldemort it was his face splitting to reveal a fanged maw. "Why, yes indeeed, my dear. I do so love the way you think. Reminds me of myself, actually."

And as the dark mark flew high above the air of Edzell Scotland, the only sounds left were the crackling of burning buildings, and a cold, high-pitched laugh.

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A/N: If any of you live in Edzell, Scotland, I apologize. I was stationed at RAF Edzell for ninemonths, and thought the town was a nice little place. Certainly NOT a 'hovel'.


	47. Chapter 47: Siege

Disclaimer: Chapter and verse may be mine, but the Universe isn't

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Twin knocks interrupted the gloomy silence of Borgin and Burke's. "Hold yer horses," growled Ernest Borgin, the current proprieter of that less than respectable establishment. He walked to the door, and tore it open with a scowl. "Eh, the Weasley Clowns. Whaddya want?"

The two redheaded twins were dressed to the nines, in a flamoyant manner that would have made Dumbledore proud. Forest green dragonhide jackets, reaching almost to their ankles, covered bright robes the color of their own hair and decorated with flame patterns. One of the two wore a monacle over his left eye, while the other had a feathered cap perched jauntily to one side. "Ah, good Mister Borgin, so wonderful to see you at this time of the evening, old chap!" chirped one, the one with the monacle, as he extended his hand for a shake.

Borgin glared down at the hand, and his gut instinct agreed with his natural inclination - he did NOT want to shake that hand. "What do you two jackanapes want?" he growled.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," demurred the one with the monacle, pushing his way into the shop, his brother following close behind. "Oh, and anything we say must, absolutely MUST remain secret, right old bean?"

Grumbling, Borgin closed the down. "Look, you two, I said it before, I don't want you comin' in to my store! You wanna deal with me, ya do it through Marcus Bandsworth!"

The one with the hat sighed. "Rather difficult these days, you know. Seems ol' Bandy has been prosecuted for plying his profession by proposing to provide purloined property."

"Eh. He's in the slammer again?"

"That's what I said," agreed the one with the hat. "Now down to business. Gred?"

"Right-o, Forge. Shall we adjourn to your office for some privacy?"

"No!"

"Excellent!" responded 'Gred', pushing past Borgin once again, heading behind the counter and through the half-open door behind it. As always, 'Forge' was right behind.

"Stop, wait, what are you doing?" demanded Borgin, as he charged back to the same doorway to stop them. The door slammed shut behind them, and the main shop was silent for a moment.

That is, until various items started moving around on their own, rising up off of shelves before settling back down, or even trading places with other items. The fact that some price stickers were also switching themselves was entirely coincidental.

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"Good morning, Kingsley," greeted Remus Lupin as he walked in to the Outer Office of the muggle Prime Minister, nodding to the tall, bald, dark-skinned man who sat at the secretary's desk.

"Morning, Remus," said Kingsley Shacklebolt. "The Prime Minister is expecting you, go on... in?" He stopped in mid-statement, as a pink-haired blur dashed in.

"Sorry I'm late," said the young, heart-faced woman. "Wotcher, Kingsley."

"Tonks? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, right, you weren't at the briefing Thursday, too busy playing 'little miss secretary'," she snickered. "Seems Fudge has decided any member of the Ministry besides MLE itself that has duties in the muggle world will have an auror or MLE guard when they go about their duties," she said. "And I volunteered to be the guard for Fluffypoo, here."

Remus groaned. "Do you HAVE to call me that in public?"

"Yup!" she chirped.

"Then I guess I can call you Nymphommmph.." His own statement was silenced by her hand suddenly covering his mouth.

"Okay, Remus it is in public, gotcha," she admitted, blushing slightly before using her powers to hide the blush.

At that moment, the door to Kingley's left opened, and the Prime Minister walked out. "Ah, Remus, good to see you. I thought I heard your voice out here." He shook the werewolf's hand, then turned to Tonks. "And who is thas charming young lady?" he asked.

"Mr Prime Minister," began Remus, "I would like to introduce you to my fiancee, Nymphadora Tonks, an auror of the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement, just like Kingsley over there. She's coincidentally been assigned as my bodyguard by Minister Fudge."

"Aah, so this is the remarkable woman I've heard so much about," said the Prime Minister, smiling warmly. He took her hand and did an almost Continental half bow over it. "May I offer my congratulations on your impending nuptuals?"

Tonks exaggeratedly fluttered her hand at her mouth. "My, Mr Prime Minister, why thank you."

Remus smiled. "Sir, are you ready for today's report?"

This brought a resigned frown. "Unfortunately, Remus. Let's..."

"Wait!" barked Kingsley, suddenly drawing his wand. "Did you hear that?"

Remus shook his head. "If it was closer to the Full Moon I might have," he admitted, "but most of the time my hearing's not as good as yours."

Tonks also had her wand out. "Remus, Mr Minister, please go into your office and close the door. I heard something too, but it was muffled, and somewhere on the floor below."

Kingsley took up a position beside the door, and nodded to Tonks. "The Floo is hooked up. Send an alpha class call, condition yellow."

"Right!" All business, Tonk's customary clumsiness seemed to vanish. As her fiance and the PM vanished into the office, she crossed the outer office in a few steps, and reached for the Floo Powder.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! The shockwave nearly tore the powder out of her hands, but she managed to toss it in, anyway.

"That was one hell of a reductor!" shouted Kingsley. "Sounded like that was the stairwell door!"

"Right! Alpha class, condition RED, location MPMO!" she cried into the fire, then pivoted to face whatever would come next.

Another reductor curse took out the door next to Kingsley, and five black robed figures rushed into the office. They could hear screams and the sizzling noises of other curses outside, and knew they were horribly outnumbered. "Where is the werewolf?" barked one, dodging a blue beam of light from Tonks as she hurled herself behind Kingsley's desk.

"They're here for Remus and not the PM?" wondered Tonks aloud, as two curses obliterated her hiding place.

Kingsley had managed to get some temporary cover, himself, behind a decorative stone statue. It wouldn't last much longer, though, so he sent out a rapid-fire barrage of stunners to give Tonks sime support. "We have thirty seconds on standard drill," he shouted. "Any second now and you lot will be surrounded by swarming aurors!"

A stray curse stopped him, however, as it blasted the head off the statue. Large stone fragments the size of golf balls slammed into his head and shoulders, stunning him briefly. Tonks, who had managed to stay on her feet mainly by sheer luck or the bad aim of Death Eaters, found herself being herded into a corner. "Give it up, slimeballs!" she yelled. "The whole building is one anti-apparition ward! You won't get away!"

"Neither will the werewolf!" shouted a Death Eater, finally hitting her with a full body bind.

"REDUCTO!" A powerful voice came from the door to the Prime Minister's office, and the five Death Eaters all found themselves in the reach of the explosion thus caused. Most were hurt relatively badly, and all were stunned long enough for Kingsley to recover, and help Remus to tie them up.

"There's still lots more outside, having 'fun' with the muggles," said Kingsley as Remus dispelled the bind on Tonks. They heard gunshots, and at least three screams of pain.

"Sounds like a few just found out the Protego charm can't stop bullets," groaned Tonks as Remus helped her up. "They'll notice their little advance team was beaten any second now, though."

"Fortis Parietis!" yelled Lupin, pointing his wand at the door and making odd passes with his wand. A blue-green glow sprang up, and covered the doorway and the entire wall beside it. Noting Kingsley's approving look, he shrugged. "There WAS a reason Albus asked me to teach DADA," he admitted.

"Okay, the auror strike team will probably reach the apparition point outside the building any second now. They'll be insinuating themselves in the muggle security using disillusionment charms, and heading here as soon as possible," said Tonks, taking charge despite Kingsley's seniority. "That wall will last what, five minutes under normal situations, right?"

"Right."

"Figger a minute to a minute and a half under full bombardment, then. And we can't rely on it to stop any stray killing curse."

Remus smiled. "Right. But that's my own version. The curse will pass right through, but won't bring the wall as a whole down, like the standard version."

"Then let's get back in the office with the Prime Minister," said Kingsley. "I have an idea. And keep your heads down!"

zzzzzzz

"No luck?" asked Harry.

George shook his head. "Nope, no sign of any Hufflecup, or anything that might have belonged to ol' Goddy or Rowwie. However, the new wheeze worked perfectly!"

Ron's ears perked up. "New wheeze?"

Fred grinned. "Why, indeed, little brother. We haven't named it yet, but it acts like an invisibility cloak for about thirty minutes. We had Lee take a bit of Polyjuice with one of George's hairs, and he played George, while my inestimable twin looked around."

"Darn," grumped Hermione, marking out an entry on a sheet of parchment in her hand. "That was one of the more likely places, too."

Parvati put a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Even if they didn't find anything," she told the bushy haired witch, "at least they helped narrow down the search."

The OGL were gathered, not in the Room of Requirement, but in the Owlery. Luna and Ginny weren't there because of OWLs, but the rest relaxed, each having finished their last exam earlier that day.

"So when are you two heading out, Cedric?" asked Harry.

"Probably here in a week or two, shortly after we finish up out paperwork as assistant teachers," came the reply.

"Right. Okay, this summer, I want everyone to train as hard as they can, just in case. Spellwork, Defense, and dodging. Gabby, you need to keep working on those communications charms. You may not be old enough to fight, but you deserve a chance to help out at least." Harry glanced over at Ron. "Hermione get you copies of those books?"

Ron groaned. "Yep. Clauswitz, Sun Tzu, even 'Magical Combat In Practice' by Theurgist Chan Mao Ssu. Bloody hell, Harry, that's a lot to read!"

"Maybe, but you're our tactician. None of us are as good at strategy as you are," said Hermione, reaching up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Err... right," said Ron as his ears turned red.

A knock came from the Owlery door. Seconds later it opened, and Ginny and Luna entered. "It's OVEEER!" declared the vivacious redhead as she flopped down in Harry's lap.

Harry's eyes bulged, and he found himself glad he was already sitting on the floor. "Oh, no," he wheezed as he listed to one side, "not again..."

zzzzzzz

The door burst open, and four Death Eaters rushed into the Prime Minister's office. "They're not here," cursed one. "Where is the werewolf? And his two buddies?"

The Prime Minister stared in disbelief. "Th-they went out th-the window," he stammered.

"Right, muggle, just shut up. You're just lucky the Dark Lord wants to off you personally, or you'd be in a bodybag right now!" The Death Eater turned to another. "Marcus, summon our brooms. The halls outside are swarming with MLE's, so we might as well follow where the werewolf and his two friends went."

Suddenly, a jet of red light blasted into the one named Marcus, while a blue light slammed into another. "What in Merlin's name?" demanded the leader of this little squad.

Two of the comfortable looking chairs faded out of existance, revealing themselves as illusions conealing the forms of Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Carceri!" shouted Kingsley, while Remus silently waved his wand.

A blue-green light pulsed from Lupin's wand, striking the Death Eater fully in the chest. His robes tore at the seams, and he found himself snapping into what, at first, felt like a full body bind. To his horror, he found his flesh sealing against itself, as his legs blended into a flipper and his arms into a tail.

Meanwhile, an orange light flashed from Kingsley's wand, but missed its target. "Crucio!" shouted the last remaining Death Eater, and his spell found its mark, sending the bald auror to the floor in intense agony.

"Stupefy!" As he lost consciousness, the eyes of the Death Eater traced back to where the spell came from, only to see a wand in the hands of... the muggle Prime Minister?

Seconds later, and all was still. Kingsley looked at the man behind the desk, and grinned. "Nice work! They fell for the whole thing."

The Prime Minister scrunched up his face, and began to shrink. After a moment, it was Tonks in all her glory sitting there, wearing an oversized men's suit. "Thank you, Shack! Fluffypoo, can you transfigure these back to my normal clothes, please?"

Remus laughed. "Not yet, we may have to pull that one again. The battle's not over."

Tonks tilted her head. "Think again. I haven't heard a curse being thrown since I blasted the bonehead over there."

"Excuse me," came the voice of the Prime Minister, currently emanating from a potted plant. "But is it safe for me to step out of here?"

"It certainly is," said Kingsley.

zzzzzzz

An old, bedraggled man slumped into a hard wooden chair. Chains that ended in manacles on the wall clinked sofftly as he idly reached up to tap them. "Jus' ain't the same," grumbled Argus Filch.

"Mrrow?" asked the confused and equally bedraggled cat that sat at his feet.

"You know what I mean, Mrs Norris," said Filch, his eyes and mouth drooping. "He's gone."

Mrs Norris replied by rubbing her scraggly back against his worn robe hem.

"I know I bin after 'em to get rid of 'im fer a while... but now that he's gone..." He sighed, and opened the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of cheap firewhisky, and started to reach for the glass next to it, but changed his mind. He twisted off the metal cap, and began to chug straight from the bottle.

"No, t'aint the same, at all." Straightening himself up, he walked out his door and headed for the Great Hall. Headmistress McGonegall wanted every staff member at every meal, and though his old bones protested, he would not disappoint her. After all, if the old bat, Trelawny, could clamber down from her belfry for the meals, he could make it, too.

zzzzzzz

Dinner that evening was buzzing as the news that the muggle Prime Minister's office at the Parliament building had been attacked, and that Remus Lupin had assisted two aurors in beating back the spearthrust of the assault.

"Wow, it says here Tonks actually impersonated the Prime Minister to save his life," said Parvati.

"Wonder what she was doing there, anyway," ponderd Harry as he reached for some more treacle tart.

"Oh, please," grinned Ginny. "She was probably visiting her boyfriend."

"Oy, Neville, please pass the blackcurrant cobbler," said Ron. His mouth was not full for once, mainly because his plate was empty.

"Here you... go?"

Said blackcurrant cobbler was currently floating about six inches off the table. "Okay, who's the wiseguy?" asked Ron.

"Not me," protested Harry, a sentiment echoed down the table.

"Wheezing Weaselby, wants a little tart! Careful whatcha eat, or it might make ye fart!" cackled a voice coming directly under the pan.

"Cobblardium Leviosa!" declared Hermione, with a classic swish and flick. The cobble rose higher in the air, to reveal a hideous face, wearing a belled hat, and grinning the most hideous grin they had seen in a while.

"PEEVES!" cried out almost the entire Gryffindor table.

"Peeves?" Argus Filch suddenly sat upright, and Mrs Norris arched her back under the Head Table.

"WAHOOOEY! Ickle firsties and Snotty Swotts, Peeves is back to taunt you lot!" cackled the poltergeist, racing through the table, taking several empty and full dishes of food with him. "Have yerselves a merry feast!' he declared, and began raining food on the cheering and laughing students.

Filch felt his heart racing, and his blood pressure pounding. He glanced over at the Headmistress, pleading with his eyes. At her smile and nod, he bolted to his feet. "PEEEEEEEVES!"

"FILCHY! Have a tart!"

Somehow the old squib not only managed to dodge the tart, but he leapt completely over the Head Table without even touching it, and began racing towards the poltergeist, Mrs Norris in tow. "I'll get you yet!" he declared, moving with an alacrity that amazed the students.

"Shan't, you shaaaaaan't!" jeered Peeves, as he raced off, out through the main doors.

And as the old caretaker bolted after his nemesis, the students closest to the door could SWEAR they heard an echoing "Woo-Hoo!"

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: Yes, the Prime Minister has offices both in Number 10 Downing Street, and in the Parliament Building. I just felt Parliament would not have his family present, thus less chance of them, say, taking his wife hostage... 


	48. Chapter 48: Summer of Changes

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter... and I don't own Smurfs. Trust me, read on to find out why I say this.

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Summer of Changes

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The sheer energy and exuberance Filch displayed over the last few days of term was almost inhuman. While raging verbally at Peeves, and chasing him all over Hogwarts, he could barely keep a manic grin off his face at the thought of the thrill of the hunt.

"I swear, it's like a Warner Brothers' cartoon," muttered Dean to his dorm mates one morning, as Peeves went bouncing by, followed shortly by Filch and Mrs Norris.

"A what?" asked Ron. He and the other purebloods scrunched up their faces in confusion.

"Never mind, Ron, we'll show you a couple this summer," said Harry. "Err... has anybody noticed Filch doesn't seem to need his cane anymore?"

Luna nodded. "Of course not. His best enemy has come back, he's too excited to need it. He'll be back to normal by next term."

This stopped Harry in his tracks. "Guys... about next term. I... I may not be coming back to Hogwarts until next year."

"WHAT?" All of them, except for Ginny and Neville, immediately began shouting, demanding answers.

Herry shook his head. "Hold it!" As they quieted down, he immediately cast a silencing charm around them. "It's the Mission. If we can't find any of the... items... by September First, I'll have to put off school for a year, to hunt them full time. It has to end, and it has to end NOW."

Hermione huffed. "But your education! You can't just 'take a year off', you know!"

"Actually, he can," said Ginny. She looked somewhat irritated, but Harry caught an acceptance in her gaze, as if she had expected it. "Not only will he be seventeen, but if he succeeds, he'll be 'The Man Who Conquered', not just the 'Boy Who Lived'. They'll hand him anything he wants on a silver platter."

Hermione crossed her arms and scowled. "Harry, I..."

"NO, Hermione. If we haven't found them by September, I'm not coming back this year. I can't." He took a deep breath. "One must die etcetera etcetera, remember?"

"Will you let me finish?" she snapped. "I was going to say, if you''re taking a year off, then I am, too. That damned prophesy said you had to do it, not that you had to do it alone."

Ron stepped forward, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder,and his other arm around Hermione's waist. "You know for a fact I couldn't let you go alone, either, right?"

The others started to clamor, almost shouting their intentions to help him too, until a voice cried out, "ENOUGH!"

To everyone's shock, it was Ginny who had yelled. "Now that you've all calmed down, it really shouldn't be anyone but Ron, Harry, and Hermione."

"But... but why?" asked Neville. "And why not you? I'd think you wouldn''t want to let him out of your sight?"

The redhead shook her head. "No, because I trust him. If I was with them, Harry might be able to hold me and kiss me, but he would worry every time he went into battle, and that worry would slow him down. As long as I'm safe behind these walls, Harry won't worry about me, and he'll draw strength knowing I'm safe, right Harry?"

Harry nodded, then his eyes grew unfocused for a moment. "Gin, there's one condition. Hedwig stays with you, and I don't mean here in the owlery, but with you at all times. She can keep me posted on how you're doing, and if you ever want to tell me anything, you can just tell her and I'll know. And, before you ask, she suggested it. She loves you, too, after all."

Luna hummed something under her breath, a Mona Lisa smile spreading across her face. Cho, whose graduating ceremony was the following day, chuckled. "Well, seems that everything's all planned out."

"Not quite." They walked through the doors to the Great Hall, and sat down. Though the House banners still flew above every table, nobody but a few recalcitrant Slytherins and the odd sixth or seventh year really cared about it anymore, and everyone sat where they wanted to. Today, the OGL sat at the Hufflepuff table. "We still have to form the search teams for the rest of the places this summer."

zzzzzzz

The train ride home was relatively subdued. Viktor and Cedric had left earlier that day for Albania, and weren't due back for at least another month. Everyone's thoughts were on finding the remaining horcruxes as soon as possible, and ending the war that had only recently turned from random terrorist attacks to full ppitched battles.

The attack on the Prime Minister's office, aimed at Lupin, had been the start, Though Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and Ottery St Catchpole had yet to be attacked, it seemed to be inevitable that one or all of these places would end up on the list before the summer was through.

And the horrible thought that occurred nearly simultaneously to them all was that Privet Drive would very likely be at the top of the list come July the thirty-first.

Cho, Parvati, Neville, and Luna weren't as close to the Dursleys as the Weasleys, Hermione, and (of course) Harry were, but the few times they met them added to classtime with Professor Dursley gave them all at least a healthy dose of respect for the man. Surely he knew his home would become a battleground at midnight, 'as the seventh month dies', but he held his ground, and patrolled up and down the Hogwarts Express giving broad smiles and fond farewells to his students.

The unnaturally large compartment the OGL was riding in expanded slightly, alerting the students to the arrival of someone they trusted. Sure enough, Vernon and Petunia soon opened the compartment door, and beamed at them all. "Hello, you little whippersnappers! And congratulations on your graduation, Miss Chang," said the burly muggle.

"Thank you, Professor Dursley," replied Cho, blushing ever so slightly.

"Tut, tut, you are no longer a student. Please, call me Vernon," he insisted.

Petunia glanced around. "How on earth did you get an engorgement charm to work on the Hogwart's Express? Lily used to tell me that they tried time and time again to do it, but it never worked."

"It's not us, Aunt Petunia," protested Harry. "We... we think it's the Express, herself. Please, have a seat, there's always room for two more."

As his aunt and uncle sat, Hermione explained. "The Hogwart's Express is a sort of extension of Hogwarts, herself. And she, well, seems to have taking a liking to us."

"A liking?" asked Petunia.

"Yes," said Luna. "And it's not any one of us, it seems to be all of us. She's quite proud of us, we think."

"She? Hogwarts is female?"

"Of course," smiled Parvati. "She's like a mother dragon, and her students are her nestlings."

"Fascinating," said Vernon. "How did you realize this?"

"We're not sure. We all sort of came to roughly the same conclusion shortly after Uncle Sirius dealt with Wormtail," said Dudley. He had stayed at Hogwarts for the rest of the term after his visit halfway through, completing his studies by mail. "She seemed to help out the Council of Spirits, giving them the perfect battleground to fight him in."

Ron smirked slightly. "But it's obvious she likes some more than others," he chirped, shoving his sister's shoulder gently, but enough to tip her over and cause her to clop onto Harry... fortunately, not in his lap, this time.

Harry instinctively put an arm around Ginny, and blushed slightly. "We... we think it's because we went so far out of our way Fourth year and since to promote ubity within her halls. She's never had the students intermingle so much, and she's overjoyed, like when a mother sees her children finally stop fighting each other."

Petunia began to slightly tear up. "That's so beautiful, Harry." She wiped at her damp eyes, then fixed both Harry and Dudley with identicl glares. "So when are the two of you going to stop your roughousing and occasional bickerings?"

Dudley looked at Harry. Harry looked at Dudley. Both grinned, then turned and said at the same time, "Never, it's too much fun!"

All of the females in the compartment sighed. "Boys," they said.

zzzzzzz

Remus sighed, and looked through the surveyer's measure one more time. "Looks like that's about right, Vernon," he said.

"Good. Filius said he would be here on the 20th to perform the Charm, so having the markers in place now will certainly help out." Vernon wiped his forehead with the back of one meaty hand. "And we have the guest room all prepared for you. You know your house won't be safe after the thirtieth."

"But Vernon," began the werewolf.

"No buts. You've been my friend for nearly twenty years, and those boys of mine love you, you know. We can't let you stick out the danger on your own."

Remus sighed. "That's not what I mean, Vernon. I fully plan on getting out of that house before the end of the month. Sirius... he left me Grimmauld Place."

Vernon shuddered. "That hellhole?"

"It's a LOT better, now," admitted Remus. "Harry had Dobby and Winky working on it while you lot were at Hogwarts and Smeltings, and Tonks just told me it's actually habitable now."

"But wasn't Dumbledore the Secret Keeper?" asked Vernon.

"Yes, he was, but the Fidelius charm does not end when the Secret keeper dies - otherwise, it's not much protection. Just kill the Secret Keeper, and POOF! No, it takes theoriginal caster of the charm to remove it, or one directly of his or her blood - and then, ONLY if both the caster and Secret Keeper have passed on."

But what if someone new joined the Order? How would they get in without Albus to let them in?"

"Well, Flitwick was the original caster. Sometime this year, he and whoever the Order chooses as their new Secret Keeper can go and modify the original charm, and switch Secret Keepers. It's what James and Lily did, when they switched from Sirius to Wormtail."

Speaking of Tonks, where is she? I thought she was assigned as your bodygueard?" asked Vernon with a knowing smile.

"She's on a mission right now for the Ministry and the Order," sighed Remus.

"I see. Well, it's bloody hot out here. Come on in, I think Dobby has whipped up a batch of that positively delicious 'special' pumpkin juice."

"The one he won't let the kids have?"

"Precisely. And I do believe the events of the past school year deserve a toast, to memories and friends."

A diaphanous form appeared behind them. "And don't forget irascible animagi that just can't be kept down!"

"Of course, Sirius, we can't forget that!"

zzzzzzz

Tonks ducked back behind the low stone wall, and resisted the urge to flinch when fragments of the topmost stone rained down on her. "Mannings, Janner, left flank! They have four more just arrived!" she barked.

The two American aurors, on loan from the American Wizarding Confederation, nodded and quickly disillusioned themselves. She could barely make out their shimmering forms as they moved off, then popped back up above the stone wall and shot off a few of the more... creative... spells that Remus had taught her.

It had begun as an ordinary raid on a suspected Death Eater hideout in Albania. She had joined up with her Albanian, American, and French counterparts to conduct the raid, only to discover three times the number of potential targets in the area, all of whom were apparantly preparing for a raid of their own, as they were already in their black robes and white masks.

A greyish blue beam of energy blasted past Tonks, driving her back under cover, when she head two apparition cracks. Glancing over, hoping it was the cavalry, she saw none other than Cedric Diggory and Viktor Krum siddenly drop to the ground to avoid spells flying their way from both directions. "Get your butts over here!" she hissed.

clambering hastily over the wall, and clutching both brooms and wands, they smiled at her. "Heya, Tonks, fancy seeing you here!" said Cedric.

"What are you doing?" she snarled, then tossed an offhand spell over her shoulder in the general direction of the knot of Death Eaters. The sound of an explosion and a few screams let her know that a direct hit wasn't always needed with that spell.

"OGL business, Miss Tonks," rumbled Krum. "Though it appears to coincide with your own mission."

"Right. Look, the Albanian aurors are off trying to sneak around the rear of those Death Eaters, and the Americans are on the left over there, disillusioned. Dawlish is hidden to the right, and is placing one of those gadgets the twins cooked up, that Hermione called a 'claymore'. Right now, the best thing you could do is help me give them some cover."

"You got it, Mrs Lupin... err, i mean Tonks," chuckled Cedric, as he suddenly launched into the air on his broom. "Air support, Viktor!" he called, and began a rapid-fire series of stunners aimed at their enemies.

Watching the two take to the air, Tonks was amazed at the mobility of the two. She knew they were good, but hadn't expected them to be ThAT good. This 'air support' idea, obviously something Ron had cooked up, took the Death Eaters completely by surprise. Not used to having to look up as well as side to side for their opponants, several fell before the surprised gits could get their wits about them. By this point their reinforcements had been ambushed by the Americans, and a brief blue flash from where Dawlish had been let Nymphadora know it was time.

"Tashti!" she cried, meaning 'now' in Albanian. A barrage of spells opened up on the Death Eaters from behind, as the native Aurors burst into the fray from behind the farmhouse that was their battleground.

Judging their position, and the location of the Americans, she glanced up at the two seekers. "Sky high, fellas!" she yelled, then shot a wave of blue sparks into the air.

The cacaphony unleashed when Dawlish activated the 'claymore' would have been hilarious, had the battle not been so fierce. The device, about the size of a paperback book, suddenly unleashed a wave of raw transfiguration magic in a cone effect from the front of it, sweeping over the now confused and demoralized enemies. Most became various barnyard animals, one became a rather nicely apointed ottoman, and one actually shifted into some sort of short, blue humanoid with white pants and a white stocking cap. "Smurf me!" he cried, and fell to the ground, holding onto his hat, and his little blue tail poking into the air.

It took the aurors, and the seekers, almost an hour to fully corral the transfigured enemies, during which time Viktor further demonstrated his linguistic faculties by conversing with the native aurors in Albanian.

While the political situation in Albania was relatively rocky, thanks to the collapse of various pyramid schemes by politicians earlier in the year, the Albanian Ministry of Magic had been rock solid since the withdrawal of the xenophobic Communist rule. The fact that the withdrawal of Communism coincided almost perfectly with the initial departure of Voldemort with Quirrell from the Albanian woodlands, it was no surprise that the native government was now a staunch ally of the British Ministry against the threat of the Dark Lord.

One of the Albanians walked up to Tonks. "Auror Tonks, the arrival of these two was perfectly timed. However, we would like to be warned of additional reinforcements in advance, especially since they utilized such unorthodox tactics."

She grinned back at them. "Funny, I would have liked to have been informed, too. Seems they were here on their own, who knows why, and decided to help out. Cedric, there, is just a Teaching Assistant at Hogwarts, and I bet you know Viktor."

"Only by reputation," admitted the Albanian. "Oh, and please inform your Research and Development department that the 'claymore' device was a magnificent piece of work. Once we get the prisoners back to Tirana, the capital, I shall put in a formal request that we make an offer of purchase for the devices."

Cedric had overheard that last comment. "R and D department? Sir, that little gadget was cooked up by the owners of a joke shop on Diagon Alley."

"Joke shop? Well, considering the effects on some of them, I can see it. Nevertheless, they may be recieving official correspondance from our own Minister - with the permission of YOUR government, as well. We would not like to get such wonderful inventors accused of espionage, especially with an ally."

"I'll be sure to let them know," admitted Tonks. "Seems we'll all be at a wedding sometime later this summer."

"Wait - whose?" asked Cedric, eyes wide.

"Why, mine, of course!" 


	49. Chapter 49: Seekings' End

Disclaimer: The Weasley Twins made me do it, I swear!

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Seekings' End

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Ron, Harry, and Hermione all stared at the sight before them. "I can't believe we actually found it," breathed Ron.

On a pedastal in front of them sat a rather ornate cup, of the style used centuries before the founding of Hogwarts. It was broad and squat and made of beaten gold, with two curving handles riveted on, and the rivets covered with gems in intricate settings. The side that faced them was engraved with a Celtic style representation of a badger, with knotwork of a most intricate sort winding around it.

"Hufflepuff's cup," agreed Harry.

The three had been wandering around Muggle London, trying to find something good for Ginny's birthday (though it was a month away), or at least Harry thought so. In truth, Ron and hermione were keeping Harry busy as Ginny was getting something for HIS birthday. Hermione had managed to persuade them to take a peek in the Museum of London. Knowing it would be a lost cause to prevent her from gaining more knowledge, they had agreed to stay only an hour.

No sooner had they walked in from London Wall than they saw a sign for a new exhibit - featuring crockery and utensils from the early Middle Ages. "No way," said Ron, and they all hurried to check it out.

The sought-after chalice, containing a fragment of the soul of the darkest wizard of modern times, sat on display for the world to see - and guarded by the most advanced muggle security systems - as the centerpiece of the collection.

Hermione started wringing her hands. "How are we supposed to get ahold of it?" she hissed to them.

Harry thought for a moment. "I actually have an idea. Come on, let's get back to Diagon Alley, I have a firecall to make.

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Parvati ducked behind the doorframe, and put a hand to her chest to help her calm her rapidly beating heart.

"Is there someone there?" whispered Fleur beside her.

"N-no," gasped the Indian girl. "One of the curtains just fluttered, and I thought there was someone there."

The part-Veela narrowed her eyes. "Switch," she hissed, and the two traded places. She poked her head just inside the doorway, and confirmed what her partner had said. "Right, it's clear. Do you remember the spell Professor Lupin taught us?"

Parvati nodded, and drew her wand. "Video Arcanum," she chanted, tapping each of her eyelids. Fleur copied her, and they began to look around.

Nothing jumped out at either girl, though there was a sickly, lingering aura near the high wingback chair in the center of the room. "Nothing," grumbled the younger girl. "This is the room Harry described, but there's nothing here."

A muffled thump startled both girls, and they jumped together in fright. They crept to a corner, and hid there, behind the very drapes that had scared Parvati before. Soon, they heard footsteps. "I'm tellin' ya, guv'ner, poor Frank done died here almos' two years ago, an' the Riddles nearly fifty years gone, themselves. An' all o' em died th' same way - died o' fright, I tell ya! This 'ere place is 'aunted!"

Fleur felt both nervous and relieved at once. They weren't Death Eaters, so their lives weren't in any real danger. But they were muggles, which meant they could not be discovered. She whispered a disillusionment charm, and felt like she had dumped an entire bottle of shampoo over her head.

On the other hand, Parvati had to hold herself up as the adrenaline left her system with relief. Hearing Fleur's own muted charm, she did likewise, and did her best to stay still.

A rather rotund man waddled in, wearing worn workman's clothing. "This is where they found ol' Frank, sir. Had 'is old lantern in 'is hand, an' looked terrible 'e did."

The second man walked into the room and shook his head. "Well, then, I guess it''s a good thing I came to check the place out before buying it off of Darnsworth, isn't it? Definitely not the place for a summer home."

A gasp threatened to escape Parvati's throat, but she held it in. She couldn''t see the man's face, but she recognized his voice, and the implications terrified her. Soon, however, the two had left, leaving the witches alone in the room.

Dropping her disillusionment charm, Parvati turned to Fleur, who had done likewise. "Th-that man with the muggle," she gasped. "That was my uncle!"

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Night fell on London, and the city came alive. Only certain places actually closed down, one of them being the Museum of London. "I can't believe I'm doing this," muttered the curator as he opened the back door.

"I fully understand, sir. But it's vital to national security, and I cannot explain how," said the man who was with him. The man was relatively tall, and had greying hair flowing from his head like a lion's mane. In one hand he held a box the size of a shoebox, but cubical, while the other rested in the pocket of his slightly oversized jacket.

"Of course, Mr. Scrimegour," sighed the curator. "I've watched the telly enough, you know."

They walked from the back door to the new exhibit. The curator did not fail to notice the look of both reverence and fear that crossed the larger man's face on sight of the ancient chalice, and wondered what could frighten the man so about it. "Excuse me, I must deactivate the security systems," he said. He walked over, inserted a key into a small lock on the wall and opened a panel. He swiped a plastic card through the panel, then held his hand against a separate section, then entered a nine digit code into the third.

The glas cage around the chalice split apart with a hiss of rarified air, and slowly slid into the pedastal. Scrimegour gasped a bit, then fumbled in his jacket for a moment. Setting the box down on the ground, he opened it, and pulled out an identical-looking goblet, setting it aside for now. He withdrew his hand from his robes, and pulled out a set of tongs. Almost gingerly, he used them to remove the original from its place, and set it in the box. Breathing a sigh of releif, he closed the box, and calmly placed the duplicate in its place. "Okay, it's good. You can replace the security, now."

As the curator and his guest left the museum, the old muggle idly wondered what could have been so dangerous about that old Irish cup that it could be a danger to national security.

However, he had no further chance to wonder. The lion-like man drew what resembled a conductor's baton out of his pocket, and muttered a single word... "Obliviate!"

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"That's the diary, the ring, the locket, and the cup," noted Hermione, checking and rechecking her list. "I think its safe to say we can wait until Cedric and Viktor get back from Albania to decide if we have to keep looking. Oh, Professor Scrimegour said he'd be by with the Cup later this evening, and Headmistress McGonagall will be with him. We can discuss how to destroy the Horcruxes then."

Parvati glanced around the gathered members of the OGL as the mid-morning sun streamed in Harry's window. "But... but what about my Uncle Prajeet? We don't know why he was looking around the Riddle house. I know he's not rich enough to even THINK about a place like that as a Summer home."

Ginny bit her lip, and put a hand on the older girl's shoulder. "There's a few possibilities. You have to be prepared if, I mean, just in case, if it turns out that... well, if he's a Death Eater."

Silence reigned for several long heartbeats. Finally, the hindu girl shuddered and nodded. "He... he was never close to us. He had some sort of argument with Father before we were born, and we only saw him from time to time. What if... what if that argument was about Uncle Prajeet following V-voldemort?"

"Until we find out, don't jump to any conclusions," advised Harry. "You don't know what he does for a living, you told us that yourself. For all we know, he might be a deep cover MLE, like Hannah Abbot's father was back during the first War."

"Right, enough on that subject," barked Ron. "It'll be a while before the Cup gets here. Anyone up for Chess?"

In the end, it turned out to be Ron against the entire rest of the assembled OGL, and it was a very close game. Ron was victorious of course, but he was sweating furiously when Hermione spotted a hole in his plans and ruthlessly moved the Knight to exploit it. Only quick thinking on his feet plugged the gap, and allowed him to scrape out the checkmate.

Vernon Dursley poked his head into his nephew's unnaturally large room. "Harry, kids, I'll be back. Dudley and I are going to get his jacket for next year. Seems he's outgrown the one we got last year, already." The portly man seemed to wink slightly at his nephew, as if passing a secret signal.

"Okay, Uncle Vernon!" chirped Harry. "See you later!"

No sooner had they heard the sound of the car backing out of the driveway, when Harry suddenly darted to his feet. "Okay, they're leaving! Places, everyone, we have maybe an hour and a half to get this all done!"

Ever since Harry's first birthday with the OGL crew, in the summer after his fourth year at Hogwarts, he noticed how Dudley seemed to be a little wistful at the size of Harry's parties. He loved his cousin, and didn't want him to feel left out, so he had devised a plan, along with the rest of the OGL, both core members and extended. "Hermione, head downstairs and signal the rest as soon as you open the floo. Ron, go with Dobby and Winky to help your mom bring everything over here. Cho, Parvati, Fleur, Gabriel, you four start setting up the decorations. Ginny, you and I are headed upstairs to get the gifts."

"Just make sure you don't take too long 'getting the gifts', Potter, that IS my sister!" smirked Ron. Harry only answered by sticking out his tongue. "Right, I'll take that as a 'Sod off, Ron,' then. Well, just don't get caught." Ron stood up (and up and up), then stretched a bit. "Right, let's get this done!"

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"I still don't see why we had to get my new jacket today, Dad," muttered Dudley. "I mean, it IS the third day of Summer Hols."

Vernon pulled into the driveway, and shut off the Vauxhall Astra. "Well, I happened to be thinking of it today. Besides, m'boy, I think you may have finally reached your full growth, so the extra couple of months won't mean very much."

They both got out of the car, a package in Vernon's hands, and walked in the front door. The curtains were drawn, for some reason, making it dark in the front room despite the bright daylight outside. "Huh, looks like Harry an' the rest have gone out. But where are Mum an' the elves?" wondered Dudley. He reached over, and flipped on the light switch so he could see while he opened the drapes.

"SURPRISE!" came the resounding yell from dozens of throats.

"Wh... Huh... Ahh..." was the eloquent response from Dudley.

"Happpy birthday, Dudders!" called out one of the Weasley Twins, though Dudley had never figured out how to tell them apart. There, in the living room, stood most of the people he had met the previous term at Hogwarts - the OGL, as well as the other Gryffindors, and a few random members of other houses like Susan Bones. And hovering in the middle of them all, away from Hogwarts, was the ghost of Sirius Black.

"But... but... You guys... I..."

"Look, ol' ickle Diddyums, I know what you're thinking," said the other twin, putting an arm around Dudley's shoulders.

"You're thinking, 'But these are Harry's friends', aren't you?" asked the first, also draping an arm across Dudley.

As the young muggle nodded, the other continued. "Well, that's where you're wrong, Dinky-diddles!"

"We're your friends too, aren't we guys!" called out the first.

Finally catching hold of his composure, Dudley turned to the one on his left and hissed, "Where did you find out what Mum used to call me?"

"Harry, of course, ol' chap! Now, let's get on with this, and let's PAR-TAY!"

"See, we brought an extra-special guest for you today..."

"A very special double top-secret guest!"

"Just make your way to the buffet table, yes, that used to be your couch, don''t worry, it'll turn back after the party, and hopefully after it gets cleaned up..."

"And find out just WHO that guest is!"

The crowd seemed to magically part, no pun intended, revealing a slightly plump girl, with hazel eyes behind small round glasses, and blonde hair that curled to her shoulders. "J-Joanna!" sputtered Dudley. "I thought you were going to Majorca with your family?" Dudley couldn't keep a smile from stretching across his face on seeing her.

"Well, I was," said the girl, "until Daddy was reassigned to Diagon Alley."

"WHAT?" This comment completely stunned the young muggle.

Joanna nodded. "Seems MI-5 has been called in to help the Aurors after seeing how effective your father's shotgun was against wizards last year."

After his girlfriend's surprise announcement, the party soon kicked off into full swing. The Twins gave him a box full of muggle pranking supplies - it seemed they were planning on branching out into that 'side of the house', so to speak, after Harry had managed to get Fred good with a whoopie cushion on the first day of the Holidays. He got various other items and knick nacks from the others, including a signed quaffle from Jonas Denmeyer, the new Chaser for the Chudley Cannons (obviously from Ron) and a muggle action figure of a robotic dinosaur from Harry - that transformed into a human-like robot when you twisted certain joints this way and that.

Dudley grinned as he opened that particular one. "You know what we're gonna do with THAT, don't you?" he muttered to his cousin.

Harry returned the grin. "Same thing we did to the gorilla one, right?"

"Everyone, gather round," came the voice of Molly Weasley. "It's time for the birthday boy's cake!"

The lights dimmed, then brightened again slightly by the light of eighteen candles burning brightly on a positively huge, quadruple-layer chocolate cake. Everyone broke into a chorus of "Happy Birthday", and Dudley couldn't help but grin madly as his new girlfriend took his arm and whispered, "Make a wish."

A mighty lung full of air later, and the lights were turned back on, as he had blown them all out in a single breath. The cake was cut, and slices were distributed to the guests. Joanna tasted the cake and seemed to melt. "Oh, wow, Mrs. Weasley. Can you teach me how you do it? Or is it magic?"

Molly and Petunia laughed. "The only magic I use in my cooking is the love I feel for my family, dear. Of course I can teach you."

After the cake was polished off, and lunch was served, the party turned into teaching wizards how to play muggle games. They tried a few board games, but when Ron consistantly polished everyone else off at any game even halfway dealing with strategy, they agreed that they'd be better off in the closet for now. Trivia games were next on the list, but since it was mostly muggle trivia, Hermione absolutely ruled at them. Finally, they settled on Twister.

"Right hand - RED!" called out Uncle Vernon, his mustache twitching with repressed mirth.

Harry stretched his fingertips as far as they would go, but his arm was pinned between Neville and Dudley, neither one exactly lightweights. Calling on his last ounce of strength, he managed to finally squeak it there, and, rather chuffed, said, "Yes! Got it!"

Unfortunately, Neville hadn't 'got it'. And he lost what little he had as his coordination just collapsed on itself. It was inevitable, of course, that he took Harry and Dudley with him, along with Ron, whose leg was somewhere tangled up in the mix.

"Oooh, that's gotta hurt," winced Sirius as the four collapsed onto the vinyl pad with a loud thud. "But at least it's something wizards and muggles alike are equally inept at!"

Apologizing, Neville rolled off his friends, and saw the clock. "Aww, nuts. Sorry, Dudley, but I gotta go. Gran wanted me home for dinner by five thirty."

The others untangled themselves, and Dudley waved it off. "No worries, mate. Glad you came, though. I'm glad all of you came." He glanced at Joanna, who was stifling giggles, and added, "Especially you," just loud enough for her to hear.

Of course, this meant that the keen hearing of the twins picked that up - or perhaps it was some supernatural blackmail sense that alerted them to potential dirt. "Aww, sniff, looks like Ickle Duddikins is growing up, Gred," sniffed one.

The other wailed. "He's no longer our itty bitty baby boy, Forge!"

Harry snorted, still on the floor and slightly sore. "Itty bitty? He was NEVER 'itty bitty', you two."

"Anyway," said 'gred', instantly drying his tears. "How's it feel to be Eighteen at last, eh? And knowing next year's your last year at Meltings?"

"Err, it's 'Smeltings'. And to be honest, I don't feel much different."

Uncle Vernon had finished folding the mat, and put it and the spinner away. "Well, come on, lads and lassies, time to clear up. Most of you lot are expected home soon, any way."

Goodbyes were made, and Dudley actually kissed Joanna goodnight as she left. It was on the cheek, but it was an actual kiss - something the Twins filed away for 'future blackmail and/or teasing purposes'. Finally, around six o'clock, the only ones left were those that lived there, Sirius's ghost, and the core OGL. "The rest are staying overnight, Uncle Vernon. Order business," he added.

This stopped his uncle cold, but the man shook himself and took a deep breath. "After an afternoon like that, it's hard to believe we're in a war, isn't it."

Harry nodded. "Yep. Cedric and Viktor are due back here next week, but Professor Scrimegour and Headmistress McGonagall are going to be coming by about seven."

"Riight, then. Off to your littlle War Room, then," said the portly man with a broad smile, "and I'll tell you when they get here."

BANG! The sound of a sudden apparation into the room startled everyone, and all of the wizards and witches immediately dropped into fighting stances, wands drawn. But when they saw who had arrived, looks of shock and horror crossed their faces, even as they lowered their wands.

A bloody, staggering Cedric stood before them, bleeding from several wounds and a horrible burn marring his left arm. His right one was holding up a completely motionless Viktor Krum. "We... we got it. The horcrux. But they... but they..." He collapsed before finishing his sentence.

Everyone started to rush forward, but the level-headed Hermione and the cold-eyed Harry held them back, save for Cho and Parvati. They quickly got both young men rolled over onto their backs, and Cedric's breathing rapidly became a lot easier. Ginny slipped forward to help Cho with some magical first aid on him. She tried to ignore Viktor, for she had seen what Parvati was only just now realizing.

The cold hand of the famed Bulgarian seeker lay limply in his girlfriend's grasp. His wide eyes stared at the ceiling, and no breath disturbed his still chest. Parvati knew what she was seeing, knew what had happened, but could not accept it.

"VIKTORRRRRR!"

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End Of Chapter

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A/N: The name I gave Parvati's Uncle, "Prajeet", means 'Victorius". And with all of the Horcruxes found except Nagini, gives a nice double meaning to the chapter title, eh? 


	50. Chapter 50: Horcruxes and the Heir

Disclaimer: It's a war; people die.

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Horcruxes and the Heir of Gryffindor

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Headmistress McGonagall sttod from her desk, and nodded at Scrimegour. "We have approximately thirty minutes before we are due on Privet Drive. Do you have everything?"

"Of course, Minerva. The cup is in the sealed box, and the other implements needed are in my satchel." The lion-like auror shuddered. "But I've got a bad feeling about this."

Suddenly the Headmistress's floo roared to life, flashing green. The face of Hermione Granger, her pallor and horror visible even through the emerald tinge, appeared. "Professor, Headmistress, please come now, it's an emergency! And bring Madame Pomfrey!"

Without wasting a second thought, Scrimegour hefted his load and dashed into the fireplace. "Number Four Privet Drive!" he roared.

Landing on his feet, he took two steps ind found himself in an improptu emergency room. Two of his students, miss Cho Chang and miss Ginny Weasley, were doing everything they could with magic and muggle means to keep alive... good lord, was that Mr Diggory, the assistant to Slughorn in Potions? Even more shocking, the unmoving body of Viktor Krum lay next to him, with miss Parvati Patil crying her eyes out over him.

Knowing Poppy would be here momentarily, and knowing his own skills in the healing arts were actually less than miss Chang's, he decided his first priority would be to the living. He handed his satchel to miss granger, who was standing right beside him, and set the box containing Hufflepuff's Cup gingerly down on a nearby coffee table. He then strode up to miss Patil, and grasped her shoulders. "I must apologize for this," he gruffed, then slapped her face.

"What?" The shock caused her to look up at him, confused.

"Snap out of it, Patil. Yes, one friend may have passed, but there is another who needs you and the rest of your friends right now!" he barked at her.

Harry, meanwhile, slid over to Sirius. "Could... could Viktor become a ghost?"

Sirius shook his head, and whispered softly, "Not likely, pup. When he died, he had just completed a very important mission, and everyone he cared about knew how he felt. Oh, sure, there's always a chance he will become one. But I wouldn't bet on it."

Ron caught Hermione's eye, and she stepped over to him. Taking the satchel from her, he nodded over at Parvati. "She's your roommate, Hermione. Nobody here knows her better. Might want to take her out of the room until she calms down... and Viktor's been seen to."

A nod was his answer, and he saw the glint of a tear beginning in her eye. He grabbed her and held her close, adding, "Stay strong just a little while longer. She needs us."

The fireplace flared green once more, this time disgorging Mcgonagall and Madame Pomfrey. A glance told them both what had happened, and while Pomfrey immediately joined Cho and Ginny at Cedric's side, McGonagall watched Hermione lead Parvati out of the room, and approached Viktor's body. "Then... their mission... it didn't..."

"It did, Professor," interrupted Harry. He pointed to Viktor's right hand, which was tightly clenched around something, holding it in despite the fact that rigor mortis had not yet fully set in. "He died doing it, but he brought it back. He gave his life to end Voldemort's reign."

"He'd have been a Gryffindor, for sure," muttered the Headmistress. She glanced over at Cedric, adding, "And his loyalty, not leaving his friend's body behind... a truer Hufflepuff I've never seen." She bit back a sob, and composed herself. "Mister Potter, I hate to ask you to do this, but we must remove the horcrux from his grasp. This means I need you and Professor Scrimegour to open his hand, and quickly. You hold onto his forearm, and Professor Scrimegour, could you please open his fingers."

The two men quickly complied, and moments later an odd amulet tumbled from Viktor's grasp. On first glance it resembled a heraldic griffon, but a second look showed it more resembled a raven in flight, with a lion beside it. "The Amulet of the Line," breathed Scrimegour.

"Video Arcanum," intoned McGonagall, and it began to glow slightly, with two different auras. The first, a bright blue aura, shone out brightly from the amulet, while a sickly green hovered mistily over the surface. "That... that is indeed it," she admitted.

Releasing the arm and hand of Viktor, Harry could not help but begin to compose his friend's corpse. He straightened the legs, then crossed the arms over the unmoving chest. Finally, he reached up, and closed the sightless eyes. "Farewell, Viktor," he whispered. "I hope you see Dumbledore on that next great adventure."

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"I need three blood replenishing potions immediately!"

"Get that skelegro here, pour it directly on the wound, it'll metabolize faster!"

"Muscle knitters, now. We need to close these gaping injuries."

Though she would never admit it, Poppy Pomfrey was in her element. She knew she could save young Cedric, and she knew she could do so and leave him with no permanent injuries. Add to that she was in her own beloved Hospital Wing, and she was utterly and completely in control of the situation.

"Were you able to determine what happened?" asked Scrimegour as she took a breather to let her potions do their work.

She nodded. "Most of his injuries were caused either by severe blunt trauma or extremely sharp blades of some sort. Based on what you say, I'd guess there were traps throughout wherever it was he was going."

The former auror nodded. "It makes sense. I'd best be headed back to Privet Drive, Poppy. Let us all know when he wakes up, eh?"

Passing back through the Hospital Wing floo, he reappeared shortly at Privet Drive. The House Elves that were so devoted to Potter and the Dursleys had already cleaned up the living room, and the rest of the kids were sitting there with McGonagall, waiting on him. "Poppy says he'll be alright. There was no spell damage, just mundane injuries, probably caused by traps."

Cho sobbed in relief, and Gabrielle and Ginny embraced the older girl as a show of support. Harry, however, simply nodded. "Then... then I think it's time to destroy these horcruxes, sir. Will it be the same way as the locket?"

Scrimegour nodded. "And I brought everything with me the first time, in that satchel I handed to Miss Granger." Ron stepped forward, and handed it to him, whereupon he noticed the student he had named was not present - and neither was Miss Patil. "Miss Patil still in shock?"

Fleur nodded, her own eyes red with tears. "Eet... eet is 'ard," she choked out, her French accent returning in her stress. "We are all very close."

Scrimegour nodded. "If you don't think you can focus tonight, stay with Miss Patil. If you think you can, come with me. Minnie is getting the workspace set up."

In the end, it was Harry, Ron, Hermione, and surprisingly Cho who followed him back through the floo to McGonagalls office, and from there to the Room of Requirements. Harry leaned over to Cho. "You sure you're up for this?" he asked quietly.

"I have to," she replied, her voice cold but with a hint of wavering. "For Cedric and Viktor."

The others overheard, and they all agreed. "For Cedric and Viktor."

The door was aleady present, and McGonagal was inside. "Come, we haven't much time. The window for the ritual is fading as we speak," she said. The room was sparse and barren, except for a circle on the floor they knew from the ritual to destroy the locket was known as Solomon's Seal. In the center lay the cup, and the amulet.

"Right, Professor." Since there were six of them, the bare minimum needed to destroy the horcruxes by this particular ritual, they each took up a spot along the rim of the seal.

Scrimegour began the ritual, his rumbling voice carrying the chant across the room. At the pre-appointed times, the rest joined in, adding different words and cadences to the spell. Eventually all six were chanting, their voices combining into a drone that carried the power of ages past behind it.

Within the Seal, the two items slowly began to rise into the air. A faint white glow surrounded them, glowing at a distance of almost three feet away. As the chant grew in speed and volume, so the aura shrunk, yet grew brighter. Finally, the items themselves glowed brilliantly, shining pure white in the dim light of the Room of Requirements.

The chant suddenly came to an abrupt halt, and the silence in the room was deafening. The two horcruxes glowed brighter and brighter, and began to shudder in mid-air. A crack appeared in the glow around the cup, rapidly followed by a crack around the amulet's glow. As if that was a cue, the six voices struck up again, in unison this time. "Lux lucis of sanctimonia , spes quod verum , exigo obscurum intus ut is ero pessum ire! Lux lucis of sanctimonia , spes quod verum , exigo obscurum intus ut is ero pessum ire!" they called out.

The glow grew brighter and brighter, until the horcruxes had become miniature suns. The cracks remained, however, until their darkness was overwhelmed by the brilliant glow. A single, triumphant call from the three wizards and three witches, and the world seemed to explode.

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"Wow... that was CONSIDERABLY more dramatic than the locket was," noted Hermione.

"That's because there were two, this time," said Harry. He looked to Professor McGonagall, who nodded, and then stepped in to the Seal. Reaching down, he picked up the still warm goblet and amulet. "Video arcanum," he muttered, touching them with his wand. He studied them for a moment, then grinned. "It worked! The horcruxes are gone!"

Scrimegour slumped over slightly in his chair. "Excellent. We need to pass the word to the Minister that our mission was accomplished, and then put this back where it was."

McGonagall nodded. "This is a treasure as much to the Wizarding World as it is to the muggle one," she said, indicating the cup. "And this amulet... unless I miss my guess about the markings on the back, it proves one of our long-held beliefs was incorrect."

"Incorrect? How" asked Cho. She and Hermione perked up,and peered at the amulet in their headmistress's hand.

"According to this, the reason the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor lines merged was not a wedding - it was an adoption. This mark here, and those there, show that Godric Gryffindor adopted Rowena Ravenclaw into the Gryffindor House as his sister, not his wife." She then glanced around the room, as if to see anyone who might be listening in. "What's more, they changed their family name."

"Let me guess," said Ron with a wry grin. "To Potter?"

"Why no, actually." McGonagall smiled slightly, and patted Ron on the shoulder. "To Weasley, my dear."

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"Ch... Cho..." muttered Cedric, and he opened his eyes.

As he expected his lovely girlfriend was sitting next to his bed, while at least half of the core Order of the Golden Light was arrayed behind her, though most of them were sound asleep. He noted idly that Parvati, Gabrielle, and Ginny weren't there, but he expected that they would still be quite distraught over... over Viktor.

"Shhh," she said, "just lay back. You still need to rest. And before you ask - yes, the horcruxes have been destroyed. Only the snake, and Voldemort himself, are left."

"Wow..." breathed Cedric. He slumped back onto his pillow, and closed his eyes. "Viktor... he was the one to save the day, you know. Tossed me out of the way of one of the nastiest traps I'd ever heard of. All scythe blades and falling logs."

"He was a hero, Cedric," murmured Harry, who Cedric had assumed was asleep. "Thanks to the both of you, there's only one step left. Destroying Nagini, and Voldemort himself."

"Shoo, all of you!" came a voice from the other side of the hall. Glancing over, Cedric saw Madam Pomfrey on her way, trying her best to hide a smile of relief. "This young man needs his rest, and the lot of you will keep him up the whole time!" Cho started to protest, but was interrupted. "Miss Chang, you may remain. But please keep the subject light, if you must converse."

Several minutes later, the rest of the Order of the Golden Light, including their only muggle member Dudley, found themselves at Privet Drive once more. Dobby and Winky had completely cleaned the place up after the terror of the night before, Ginny and Gabrielle were sitting on either side of Parvati, and lending her their moral support. Cedric had been completely wrong about why those two were not at his bedside, you see. It was because they felt their heartbroken 'sister' needed them more than their recovering friend.

"Well," began Hermione, "I guess this means we're going back to Hogwarts this fall, after all."

For some reason, this statement, coming out of the blue, struck Harry as funny. Riotously funny. He knew it was the stress and the worry and the grief, but he couldn't stop a snicker from leaking out of his mouth.

One of the girls squelched out a giggle, and everyone glanced around to see who it was. To their surprise, it was Parvati. Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth in horror that she should be laughing so soon after her boyfriend's death, but only managed to muffle her next giggle.

This was more than any of them could take. Soon the entire room was filled with the sounds of hysterical laughter, and they rolled around on the floor, bed, and other assorted surfaces of Harry's magically enlarged room. They laughed until they wore themselves out, and lay tangled together, a mass of gasping breaths and tired hearts. Ginny lay with her head on Harry's chest, while Gabrielle lay sprawled across her sister. Ron and Hermione were curled up on one side, and they all were circled around Parvati. Dudley found himself with his back against the door, staring off into space.

None of them notices the silvery grey eyes that watched them from the ceiling as they all passed out in their exhaustion, and Sirius was glad that they were able to release the stress from their systems with cathartic laughter.

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The Daily Prophet buzzed by every Wizarding home with a Special Edition. The Wizarding Wireless spoke about it almost non-stop, and from Diagon Alley to Hogsmeade, everyone was chatting about the amazing discovery that had been made.

The actual locket, of course, was kept secret - no one would know until Voldemort was destroyed that it had been the first clue. But, knowing what to look for, other evidence had been found.

And on the Quibbler, which had more of the story than any other source, the headline read, "Heir of Gryffindor Found!"

Below it, laughing with his children and blushing as he was told the full extent of this, was a photograph of Arthur Weasley.

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A/N: Heheh, I've read too many stories where Harry was the Heir of Gryffindor, Merlin, or whoever, but never read one where RON was the Heir... Besides, I think it actually takes AWAY from Harry if he's the Heir. It's as if to say he's so remarkable because he inherited it, not because he's a special man in his own right. 


	51. Chapter 51: Lion of Gryffindor

Disclaimer: I'm not as think as you stupid I am. HP does not belong to me. :)

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Fudge dropped the paper to his desk, and sighed, laughing to himself almost disbelievingly. "I should have known," he muttered. "Percival's loyalty to me after the bite and the courage it showed... the rest of his family's unwavering support of Dumbledore in the face of You Know Who. Not to mention their love for and support of Potter. Oh, and the fact that no Weasley has ever been sorted anywhere but Gryffindor."

The door to his office opened, and a young redheaded man came striding in, holding a smoking goblet. "Here it is, sir. Straight from Professor Slughorn."

"Ah, thank you, Weasley. Or should I say Gryffindor?"

"What?" asked the confused young man. "Sir, what would my house from Hogwarts have to do with anything?"

"You haven't seen today's Prophet? Or read the paperwork from section ADG-1016?"

"Err... no sir. Why?" asked Percy Weasley.

The Minister of Magic handed his assistant the paper in exchange for his Wolfsbane. "Let's just say that your lovely Penelope has managed to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in Europe."

Percy glanced at the article, and stopped when he saw the headline. Eyes wide, he looked up to his boss for confirmation. At Fudge's nod, he skimmed through the story, eyes growing wider with every paragraph. "You mean... I... Dad..." he managed to squeak out.

"I most certainly do," confirmed Fudge.

About the only thing Percy could do in response to this news was faint dead away.

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Ginny squealed, and performed a dive-tackle any American Football linebacker would have been proud of. Slamming into her target, one Harry Potter, she immediately began laying kiss after kiss on his bemused face. "I love it, I love it, I love it!" she cried, then started kissing him some more. From her stand near the window, Hedwig hooted with a fainty jealous hint,though none present knew if she was jealous of Harry or Ginny.

Parvati actually smiled at that, a rare thing in recent months, while Ron smirked. "Ya don't think she likes what Harry got her, do you?" he asked Hermione.

"Oh, no," she answered, deadpan. "Not at all."

Most people in the Wizarding World knew that Arthur Weasley, the recently recognized Heir of Gryffindor, had a real obsession for and admiration of muggles. Most people in the Wizarding World did NOT know that his only daughter, Ginevra, had an obsession for the American Muggle television show, 'Hercules: The Legendary Journeys'.

This was known quite well, however, to her boyfriend - one Harry James Potter, also known as "The Boy Who Lived". Having more than a few connections, he had managed to get a boxed set of the first season on VHS for her, direct from the producers themselves - something not yet publically available, and likely not available for a couple of years, yet.

Not that the Weasleys were without contacts and resources now, themselves. It turned out there was an annual stipend for the titleholder of Lord Gryffindor from the Crown (in Galleons, not Pounds) on the order of five hundred Galleons a year. For over a thousand years, this stipend had lain untouched, merely acruing interest at Gringotts along with the rest of the Gryffindor Legacy. To be honest, the Weasleys were now almost as rich as Harry, himself, was, which pleased the green eyed young wizard to no end.

Harry held Ginny close, and glanced around the Weasley home. The doors were straighter, the paint fresher, and the odd angles not so odd anymore. But Mrs Weasley's clock still hung over there to his right, and the same wonderful smells wafted from the kitchen. He could even still hear the family ghoul up in the attic clanking his chains, though Fred and George joked that they had bought him a solid gold chain to clank. In short, while it was changed remarkably, it was still the Burrow. It was still his second home, after Privet Drive.

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"I can't WAIT to see Malfoy's face!" chortled Ron. He reached up and adjusted his robes, then reached out and put his arm over Hermione's shoulder.

Harry grinned. "Watch it, oh Scion of Gryffindor," he joked. "I think your head grew about three sizes with that statement alone."

Under normal circumstances, that would have been just a joke or a euphamism. However, with brothers like Fred and George, circumstances would never be anything remotely resembling 'normal'. The truth is, after having gotten tired of their little brother getting "a big head" as they said, they managed to get him with a linked Engorgement charm. To be exact, the bigger his ego got, the larger his head grew. Had he been Head Boy, this would have been even more humorous, but the truth is that Harry had been named Head Boy, and Hermione Head girl, something nobody was surprised by.

"Oh... sorry." The embarrassment alone was enough to not only drop his head down to normal, it actually shrank a little.

While the first few years saw Malfoy 'making the rounds' to annoy the gryffindor Four and their friends, that particular habit had ceased since the grand 'chess game' that ended up with what remained of Slytherin House declaring neutrality in the upcoming conflict. Those who were otherwise bound and determined to join Voldemort had actually left school, to sudy at home and, not coincidentally, at the feet of Death Eaters themselves. Thus, the four young adults rode in a Thestral-drawn carriage towards Hogwarts having not been 'graced' with the presence of the Slytherin Prince.

"Our final year," breathed Hermione.

"Yeah... NEWTs, NEWTs, and more NEWTs," grumbled Ron.

Ginny sighed. "Speak for yourselves. I have a rather lonely year here after you lot leave."

Harry drew her closer to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. On his opposite shoulder, Hedwig hooted softly and blinked slowly at her. "Don't worry, love. You'll have Hedwig with you next year, which will be just as good as if I was."

"But can Hedwig do this?" asked the redheaded witch, and kissed him quite thoroughly on the lips.

Hermione half expected to hear something from Ron about no snogging in front of him, but he surprised he by staying quiet. She caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, to which he grinned. "I figger they're gonna do it anyway whether I'm here or not," he explained, "and me just complainin' about it would just annoy all of us."

"I'm impressed," admitted the bushy haired witch. "You don't have the emotional range of a teaspoon, after all."

"I coulda told you that," replied Ron.

"Why yes, I'd say with your newfound maturity, it's all the way up to a tablespoon by now."

Everyone laughed, and Ron's head started to shrink a bit, then swelled back to its normal proportions with a soft 'pop'. "About bloody time," he grumbled, then leaned over and laid one heck of a kiss on his girlfriend.

It just so happens that this occurred right as the carriages had reached the front door of Hogwarts, and students had begun to clamber out. Thus, this stirring performance had a rather large audience. Neither one noticed, however, until they broke the kiss... to rather loud and raucous applause.

Hopping out before his friends, to help Ginny out like a gentleman should, Harry piped up, "Thank you, ladies and Gentlemen, they'll be here all week! Try the veal!" The muggleborns and most of the halfbloods laughed at this, but the purebloods only looked confused.

The incoming class seemed smaller than ever, even as Harry realized that almost all of the Order of the Golden Light was now officially Of Age, save only for Ginny and little Gabrielle. The House Ghosts floated around their tables, introducing themselves to their new charges, while Sirius floated around and passed on tips about how to sneak around the castle.

Harry and his friends glanced up at the Head Table. "Hey, Professor Scrimegour's not there," noted Neville.

"And I wonder who that is," pondered Parvati.

The individual she was referring to was, undoubtedly, the new DADA professor, their seventh in as many years. He was of average height, with dark hair and blue-grey eyes hiding behind glasses. His nose was crooked, like it had been broken some time in the past, and he was more than a little thin. With his sharp cheekbones and pointed chin, one might even say he was nearing emaciated, but his left forearm was visible as the sleeve of his charcoal-grey robe slumped to his elbow, displaying a surprising amount of muscle. Nodding to the forerm, Harry muttered, "Well, we don't have to worry about him being a Death Eater."

About this time, Professor McGonagall stood up. "Now that we have all taken our fill, I have a few start of term announcements. As usual, the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all students, and there have been more than two hundred new items added to the list of contraband items, which is on display outside the office of our caretaker, Argus Filch.

"I would also like to introduce the newest member of our faculty, Professor James Danner, who is taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, as Professor Scrimegour has recently been asked to return to the MLE by Minister Fudge." There was a slight smattering of applause as Professor Danner half rose out of his seat and nodded to the crowd with a crooked grin. "Now, off to bed with you all. Prefects, please guide the First years to their dormitories, and good luck to all of the students in your studies."

Hermione sighed, and glanced down at her 'Head Girl' badge. "Ron, can you take charge of the Gryffindor Prefects? Harry and I are supposed to meet with the Headmistress to work on the patrol schedule for the year."

"O' course, love," he said, kissing her briefly. He then turned back to the table. "Prefects, gather up the little 'uns. Off we go!"

Ron smiled inwardly as he walked with the crowd of students, guiding them to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Stepping right up, he actually gave her a little half-bow and a wink, before giving the password. "Splendiforous!"

The portrait giggled, and batted her eyelashes at the young man as she opened. "If i were only a few years younger... and not made of paint, of course."

The other Prefects herded their young charges to their dorms, even as Ron settled down in one of the nice, padded easychairs to wait on his best friends. Ginny curled up on the steps to the Gryffindor girl's side, humming softly to herself.

"It's almost over, innit, Gin," Ron rumbled, sending her a warm smile.

"Hey, now! Just because you graduate this year..." she began.

"I meant the war," he interrupted. "Once we find Snake-For-Brains, and his pet handbag, we can take care of 'em, and this will all be over."

"Oh." Ginny looked slightly ashamed of herself. "You're right, though. It is, I can just feel it."

A sudden rush of displaced air, and a huge orange and black shape suddenly filled the space between them. Padded feet pawed the stone floor, as clows slipped in and out of velvet sheaths. A thick dragonhide collar, studded with various gems lay nestled in the striped fur of its neck. Green eyes locked on to Ginny, and a cavernous mouth opened, revealing fangs the size of her fingers... and it roared.

"GINNY, DON'T MOVE!" yelled Ron. His wand was out in a flash, even as the massive bengal tiger turned to regard him. "Stupify!" he yelled.

The red beam of light darted out of his wand, and scored a direct hit on the predator. However, it seemed to stop barely an inch away from the thing's skin. "It's warded!" he yelped.

The roar had woken up any Gryffindors who were still awake, and they began to head downstairs. Fortunately, those who reached the bottom first stopped short on the sight before them. The sound and movement distracted the beast, and Ron took advantage of that distraction to slowly move around to its flank. "Everyone stop where you are!" yelled Ginny. "It's got something protecting it from magic!"

"What are we supposed to do, then?" asked Seamus, his voice quivering a little.

"Just stay there!"

Unfortunately, one of the second year girls went into a panic, and tried to rush for the portrait hole. Ginny grabbed her, but not before the jungle cat noticed the motion, and began to move towards her, teeth bared and claws out.

A redheaded form suddenly hurtled from the side, slamming into the beast but not moving it much. Ron draped himself across the tiger's back, and wrapped his long arms around the things neck, and began to squeeze with all of his might.

Another roar sounded throughout the dorm, this one oddly muffled, and the tiger dropped ot one side and began roling over onto its back. Ron was certain he felt several ribs crack as the beasts weight pressed him into the cold, stone floor, but he could not, would not let go. He realized the thing was beginning to bring its back paws into play, likely to rip his arms to ribbons, and immediately struggled to get his own legs around its waist, and press afainst the thighs of the beast.

"Ron!" screamed Ginny, right as the portrait hole opened. It was Harry and Hermione, but they weren't alone. With them were the Headmistress, as well as Professors Danner and Tonks. Seeing them, she yelled, "Help him! But watch it, the thing's protected against magic!"

Harry looked to first McGonagall, then Danner. "What can we do?" he wailed.

"This," answered Professor Danner. He waved his wand, and a heavy footstool flew across the room towards the struggling beast and its hapless foe.

Unfortunately, the moment the stool reached within a foot or so of the tiger, it suddenly lost all motive power and momentum. Ron knew that they were trying to help, and appreciated it, but also knew one more thing - this was going to have to be his fight, and his fight alone.

One rear paw made it up to where Ron's arms were, and lines of fire traced themselves across his forearm as its claws dug deep. He hissed in pain, but held on, even as it began rolling from one side to the other, cracking more ribs and sending new waves of agony through him with every movement. His arms began to weaken from the pain, and his fingers, once locked around each other, began scrabbling for purchase.

By sheer luck, the fingers of his uninjured hand found the buckle of the things collar. His grip was nearly useless, and it was about to stand to shrug him off and finish him, when he decided to rip the collar off as a futile gesture. With his last ounce of strength, he managed to work the buckle free, and tossed the collar a few feet away.

To everyone's surprise, the tiger suddenly not only grew quiescant, it also shrank. Considerably, once the collar was removed. In moments, the battered form of Ron Weasley was pinned to the floor not by several hundred pounds of snarling predator, but by a very, very young, and very confused, tiger cub.

"Well, ain't that a surprise," muttered Ron as he passed out.

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A/N: Just a note I'll be more explicit with in an upcoming chapter... Who says that in a magical line such as the Weasleys, that an inheritance of power and honor (as opposed to property) will follow to the Eldest? Why not, say, to the one who most exemplifies the virtues of the line:) 


	52. Chapter 52: Fluffball

Disclaimer: As opposed to a claimer. 

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Harry, Ginny, and Hermione sat huddled together around Ron's bed. He had been given a dose of Dreamless Sleep potion, and slept quietly. Surprisingly, he did not snore at all when under the potion.

"The collar? It was a portkey?" asked Ginny.

"Yep," acknowledged Harry. "It was a command-triggered portkey. The buckle of the collar was enchanted to make that barrier, which only affected spells about six inches away from the tiger. The studs were enchanted to artificially age it, and enrage and confuse it."

Hermione sniffled a bit, one hand holding on to Ron's. "And they actually think it wasn't Voldemort?"

Ginny shrugged. "Voldemort isn't the only evil in the world. And it would have to have been a former Gryffindor who made the portkey, you can't make a portkey somewhere you've never been."

"Not really," noted Harry. "Moody thinks it was an 'aimed' portkey - something got smuggled into the Tower, and when the portkey was activated, it homed in on whatever it was. Could have been anything from a sweet wrapper to a quill. But McGonagall has already closed the wards to those kind of portkeys, now."

They sat in silence, as they waited for the school nurse to return after seeing to another patient - this time as an assistant. Hagrid was in charge of this particular patient, because it was the tiger cub that had attacked Ron.

Soon, raised voices could be suddenly heard as the two faculty members moved beyond the range of a silencing charm. "...'as bonded to 'im, since 'e was the firs' thing she saw, I tell yers! She won' settle down 'till she's near 'im now!"

Sure enough, the tiger cub could be heard yowling in fear and sadness, even as they drew closer. "But that's a wild animal, Rubeus Hagrid! It may be a tiny thing now, but it will grow into a positively savage beast!" objected Poppy.

The privacy curtain around Ron's bed was suddenly pulled back. "An' what better bodyguard fer one o' the descendants o' Gryffindor than a hunting cat, eh, Poppy? I tell yer, she'd never harm 'im now, and wouldn't have if it weren't fer that ruddy collar! 'Ello, 'Arry, 'Ermione, Ginny."

As soon as the curtain had been pulled back, a black and orange ball of fluff leapt out of Hagrid's grasp, and landed softly on the side of Ron's bed. The tiger cub padded up to the pillow, and curled up around Ron's head, then closed its eyes and grew quiet, except for a faint, whuffing sort of purr.

Harry felt his mouth curl up in a smile, as he caught a glance at Poppy's amazed expression. "Looks like Hagrid's right," he murmured just loud enough for everyone to hear, but not loud enough to wake Ron.

"Ohh... well, for now I'll let the little cub be. But we'll be having words with McGonagall about this matter, Rubeus!"

Seeing the matron turn to the three friends and begin to open her mouth, Ginny cut her off. "We're heading out, Madame Pomfrey. We just wanted to see Ron before breakfast."

"Well, good. Off with you lot, then."

"Madame Pomfrey, when will Ron be pardoned from this institution?" quipped Harry.

She frowned. "He was badly hurt last night. He's staying here at least untill supper, and possibly until tomorrow morning if those ribs don't heal properly by then."

"Okay. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey!" And the three hurried out of the Hospital Wing.

As they had expected, the Great Hall was buzzing with rumors and conversation that seemed to spring up as soon as they walked in. They heard snatches of them, and heard everything from "probably just Crookshanks" to "it was a Nundu, I swear! And Weasley ripped its head off with his bare hands!". Laughing at the last one, they took their regular seats at Gryffindor Table.

Midway through breakfast, the post was delivered. Dropping a few coins in the sack on the leg of the owl for the Daily Prophet, Hermione opened it up to the front page, and gasped. "It's already in the news!" she squeaked. "And they got a photo, too!"

"What? Let me see!" said Harry. He, Ginny, and Hermione all crouched around the paper, with a photograph of Ron being crushed beneath the bulk of the tiger, his arms tightly locked around its neck.

**_LION OF GRYFFINDOR!_**

_Last night, seventh year Hogwarts student and descendant of Godric Gryffindor, Ronald Weasley, boldly risked his life to protect his friends and family, as the photograph above clearly shows. It is unknown at this time how the vicious beast got in to Hogwarts, but eye witnesses claim that it proved impervious to magic, even when cast by Professor Danner, new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor._

_"It was amazing," said fifth year Gryffindor Romilda Vane. "He just charged the monster with his bare hands when the stunner didn't do anything. He wrestled around on the ground with it, and then it suddenly shrunk down to almost nothing!"_

_Exactly why the tiger suddenly shrunk is not known, but the immense courage the young man displayed in this act is undeniable. Clearly, the blood of Godric Gryffindor still runs strong._

_Story continued on page 6_

Ginny groaned. "Good thing Mum already knew what happened. But we hadn't gotten in touch with Bill, Charlie, or the Twins, yet."

"Well, it could be worse. But who took the..." Harry took a closer look. "Dennis, this time."

Ginny growled. "So do you hex him or do I?"

"I think we should let Ron hex him," noted Harry.

Hermione gave a wicked grin. "Or maybe he could sic his new pet on Dennis."

"Oooh," squealed Ginny, "wasn't she just the cutest little fluffball?"

Harry smirked. "You didn't think so when it was two hundred kilos and all snarly, Gin."

She swatted him on the arm. "Shut it, you. It was that collar, not the fluffball." She then paused. "Ooh! Think Ron would let me name her?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't know if he should actually keep her, Ginny. I mean, a bengal tiger is one of the most dangerous mundane animals in the world. More tigers become maneaters than any other big cat."

Harry's eyes lit up in triumph. "Ha! But they also become the most loyal of the big cats when hand-reared! I knew that, Hermione! Besides, we're allowed an owl, rat, cat, or toad, and since we're only going to be here one more year, it'll never really get much bigger than a large housecat, anyway."

Hermione shook his head. "I'll grant you on the raising, but that's by people who know what they're doing. And graduation is in eight months - that 'large housecat' will weigh as much as Ginny and I put together, if not more."

Ginny's eyes flashed. "Then we'll get people who know what they're doing to help us. That poor cub was used by someone with a petty vendetta, and it deserves to have some love in its life."

Knowing it was a lost cause, and remembering the tiger's reaction to Ron, the bushy haired witch gave in. "Very well. Although... Harry, if he decides to go that route, do you think Ron would be willing to have the High Bond performed, and that tiger turned into his familiar?"

Harry pursed his lips, and pulled Ginny a little closer to him on the bench, relaxing as he felt her lean into him. "Well, I dunno. I actually think he'd rather try to find out if he can be an animagus, first, then go with the High Bond if it turns out he doesn't have that gift."

Ginny giggled. "If he does, do you think he'd suddenly get black stripes in his hair?"

Parvati walked up from where she had been sitting with Lavendar, and cocked her head. "What's given you three the giggles?" They explained, and the four of them headed to their respective classes tossing back and forth ideas as to what changes might happen in Ron if he made the tiger cub his familiar.

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"Enter," called the weary voice of Minerva McGonagall.

The door to the Headmistress's office opened, and Remus Lupin stepped in. "The report's in, Minerva. They found him."

"Was he..."

"No. He was a pureblood, but one who simply had a grudge against the Weasleys. This was politically motivated, not one of Voldemort's schemes." Remus sighed. "Merlin knows we've had enough of THOSE lately."

Lips pulled back in a grimace, she nodded. "I... I have a new report from the Minister. Have you recieved it as well?"

Remus nodded. "If you mean what happened in Harrogate, then yes." He dropped his face in his hands, and wiped tired eyes. "I can't believe we're so close. Only Nagini and the walking snake himself are left."

Minerva nodded. "Oh, you might find this somewhat amusing. Somehow, the tiger cub has imprinted on young Mr Weasley."

"Unsurprising after what I just found out," noted Remus.

"Oh?"

"Yes. One of the gifts of the Gryffindor Line is the Heart of the Beast. There's a reason their squib cousin, King Richard, was called 'the Lion-hearted'." He grinned. "And it seems there's an anamoly in the naming of the Heir, as well."

"Anamoly?" Her eyes grew apprehensive. "What sort of anamoly?"

"Well... the exact details are currently being debated between the House of Lords and the Wizengamot, but it seems that a binding magical testament, decreed several generations before Godric, declares that the Gryffindor title and such do not go to the eldest child."

"Then to who?"

"To the bravest," said Remus, his grin growing wider. "And let's look at Ron's pedigree, shall we? The chess set, first year. Being willing to face the basilisk alongside harry in his second year, although the cave-in locked him out of that particular confrontation. And Sirius told me he somehow managed to force himself up onto a broken leg to stand beside Harry to protect him when they faced Wormtail the first time."

Minerva smiled. "And of course the most recent incident. However... wouldn't this mean that the descendants would go out of their way to perform foolhardy stunts?"

"They had that one covered,too," countered Remus. "Deeds don't matter. It's similar to what the Sorting Hat does when it decides someone fits Gryffindor even if they're frightened of their own shadow, like Neville Longbottom used to be. The force behind the testament actually mystically judges them. And last week, the Roll of Gryffindor was found. Arthur Weasley is most certainly the current titleholder... and Ronald Weasley is listed as the current Heir."

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"I don't know, Molly. I mean, if I was a bridesmaid, there'd be no problem, just change up the hair and complexion to match the dress. But none of my bridesmaids are metamorphomagi like me," worried Nymphadora Tonks.

"It'll be fine, dear. The champagne is neutral enough to look fine on everyone," reassured the matronly witch. "Now, hand me those chocolate frogs."

The two were currently in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, trying their beast to arrange the outrageously huge amount of flowers, sweets, and other gifts from well-wishers in such a manner as to not spill out throughout the entire room.

Tonks reached across the bed to hand the sweets to Mrs Weasley, and snickered to herself when she realized the sleeping little tiger cub was actually purring as it rested on Ron's pillow. "Think there's room at the burrow for that little beast?" she asked.

Mrs Weasley's eyes twinkled. "I don't see why not. He's lived there for his whole life so far." She then set the chocolates on the extra end table they''d appropriated from a few beds down.

"That's not what I meant," protested the auror. "But you knew that," she added, accusingly, even as she fought a grin.

"Why, yes I did. Just like I knew you needed a tension breaker."

"Did someone say 'Tension breaker'?" came a voice from the doorway.

"And if so, why didn't they just call us?" chimed in an identical voice from just to the left of where the first came from.

"Ah, George, Fred, here to see your brother?" smiled Mrs Weasley. "He's not up right now, but Poppy said he should be coming around soon."

"Well, we ARE here to se him," said Fred.

"But there's more, too," noted George.

"It's about the whole 'Heir' thing, Mum," continued Fred, fighting a grin.

"And it's something Charlie grumbled about for ten minutes before deciding to be proud instead of angry," finished George.

"The testament was upheld?" asked Tonks.

"Sure was, Nymphy-poo!" chortled Fred.

"Ooh, brother mine, you just proved why we weren't on the Testament," warned George.

"And why would that be?"

"Because it lists the bravest, not the stupidest. Pardon me while I just pop to the other side of Mum, here!"

Growling like her werewolf fiance, Tonks lunged at Fred, who yelped and started running. "Get back here, you'll pay for that!" Even though he knew that she wan't TOO serious, the prankster still ran, because what was about to happen would STILL hurt.

"C'n y' quiet down," muttered a voice that hadn't been heard since the previous night, stopping everyone in their tracks.

"Ronnikins, you're awake!" chortled George. "How's our little red-headed Tarzan today?"

"Hungry," he admitted, and blinked a bit as he looked around the room. His eyes suddenly stopped roving. "Mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Why is there a tiger cub on my pillow?"

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"Wormtail, Malfoy, Nott the Younger, Amycus, Rabastan, and Gerridan - all dead. Rudolphus, Crabbe, and Goyle - recaptured and re-imprisoned. And Snape... dead AND a traitor." The voice was a high tenor, and little more than a hiss. "You four are all that are left of the Inner Circle. This is... UNACCEPTABLE!"

Bellatrix, Alecto, Avery, and Nott the Elder shuddered as their Lord and Master roared out his frustration. They knew it would be momentary, as his other news was much better, and would override his anger soon enough. Besides, with the others gone, they would not have to share as much of the Master's power.

"Alecto, what are our current numbers of recruits?" he suddenly snapped.

"Three times what they were five months ago, milord. We have dark wizards and witches from all over the continent flocking to your banner, so that we have become a hydra - cut one down and two more take his place," she said with pride.

"Excellent! Nott, what of the beasts?"

The tall, gangly man grinned, though he was careful not to look Voldemort in the eye. "Besides the Dementors, we have convinced the Giants of both the Caucasus Mountains and the Welsh Hiddenlands to join us. No less than ten coteries of vampires have joined us, and Greyback has reported to us that his own numbers have grown. Not as swiftly as we would have liked, however, because of that damn Minister and the Muggle Liason."

"Acceptable. The Goblins have declared themselves a non-entity, but when the Hags send their representatives, they will more than make up for that." He turned his gaze. "Avery, what is the status in the Ministry?"

"They are losing numbers, Milord. Mostly from attrition in the MLE ranks from the constant battles, but also from those fleeing the country in fear like the mudblood dogs they are." Pausing, he allowed a smile to form. "And our own numbers hidden in the Ministry have increased, thanks to Umbridge."

"How swiftly are they losing numbers?"

"They have lost ten percent of their total MLE and Auror forces in the past month alone."

The Dark Lord smiled. "Then it is nearly time. Bellatrix, how goes your own assignment?"

The once beautiful woman could not resist a cackle, and alone of the Death Eaters dared meet his gaze. "Exactly as you requested my Lord... but no less than three days ahead of schedule."

"Bella, Bella, Bella, good work." He looked at the other three. "See? THIS is why she is my favorite!" he cackled.

As jealous glances burned their way towards the witch, Voldemort paused. "But... wait. An Inner circle is a circle, is it not?"

"Y-yes, Milord," stammered out the slightly portly Alecto.

"Then there should not be any favorites. You ALL are my favorites," declared the Dark Lord magnanimously. "And to prove it... CRUCIO!"

The screams of Bellatrix LeStrange were music to his ears, even as the insane witch shuddered as much out of pleasure as out of agony from the pain.

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A/N: Okay, so the Tiger was sent for political reasons and not by Voldemort, and now Ron has a new pet. But wait... what is Bellatrix's secret mission?


	53. Chapter 53: Battle Ready

Disclaimer: Potter and company aren't mine. Professor Danner is, but he's not important.

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The past several weeks had been filled with horrors the likes of which Great Britain had not seen since the darkest days of World War Two. And just as a man, named Winston Churchill, had risen to the circumstances and held his nation together during their darkest hour, so too did Cornelius Fudge finally reach the point where he became what he always could have been. He may not have been the bravest man in the world, but what he had was conviction. Just a few years ago, that conviction and loyalty had, unfortunately, been focused entirely on himself. Now, however, thanks to a werewolf's bite and the actions of a young man he hardly knew, he had managed to turn that around. His loyalty was to the Wizarding World, now, and he'd be damned if he'd let some reborn snake-thing tear it apart.

That was why, on this blustering cold November morning, he took a stand. The atrium of the Ministry of Magic was packed full of reporters, foreign dignitaries, and of course Aurors and MLE Hit-Wizards. On the podium beside him stood his personal assistant, Percy Weasley. The young redheaded man had become a good friend lately, after demonstrating a loyalty that would make any Hufflepuff proud, at the same time as his Gryffindor courage, after defending the now lycanthropic minister against any and all. He had even drawn his wand to protect Fudge from a drunken assailant, and reacted faster than his own MLE bodyguards, which impressed the older wizard.

A chime sounded, and the Minister tapped his wand to his throat, intoning, "Sonorous". With the amplification charm in place, he coughed, then addressed the crowd. "Wizards, Witches, Goblins, and all other citizens of the Wizarding World, I stand before you today for many reasons.

"First, I stand here to tell you that though twilight appears to draw near, we shall not let the light fall. In the words of the poet, we shall rage against the dying of the light. Two of the most powerful weapons we have against the darkness are courage and loyalty. The courage to face the darkness, and the loyalty to stand between the darkness and those we love.

"Second, I stand here to tell you that only by coming together, by drawing all the disparate elements of our society into a unified whole, can we stand against this foe." He paused, and held up a roll of parchment. "To that end, I have just signed a bill that has repealed the Werewolf Register, and paragraphs 4, 9, 11, and 14 of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans."

The gathered crowd gasped, and murmurs started spreading. "For example, it is ridiculous to ban goblins and house elves from using wands! They have their own, innate magics that do not rely on wands, so why impose such a useless stricture? No, they, and other Beings must be allowed to see that we are no longer the short-sighted, Medieval institution that has stunted our growth for so long," continued Fudge. "And as for werewolves - do we prevent those suffering from Dragon Pox from holding jobs? Do we require that victims of what Muggles call Bi-Polar disorder register with the Ministry? No, we do NOT!

"For those who would claim that I signed this bill out of pure self-interest, I should point out that I was completely unaware of this initiative until Madame Bones presented it to me to sign or veto, three days ago. I would also remind you of young Mister Potter's words just a day after I was bitten. This is a disease, not a state of being, and one that can actually be controlled easier than Dragon Pox, with the advent of the Wolfsbane potion. In addition, no less than three International interests have been working on a true cure for the disease, and have begun sharing their research with each other in hopes that, within ten years, a true cure can be found!"

This set off an uproar. Some of the crowd was calling for Fudge's resignation, some declared he was a saint, and still others simply yelled out questions that were drowned by the noise. Fudge let them get it out of their system for several long minutes, then cried out, "FRIENDS! I must insist once more that the Wizarding World MUST unite to stop Voldemort!" The crowd hushed and frightened murmurs spread at his use of the name. "Even more so, we must do this to prevent future Dark Lords like him, or like Grindelwald. In closing, I must state that by doing so, by embracing those that are different, we take away one of the enemy's weapons, and turn it into our own! Thank you, and good day."

Silence spread through the atrium as he turned, and walked back to his office, Percy Weasley and the MLE bodyguards at his side.

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"Are the armies ready?" hissed the fiend that once bore a human name.

"The giants, dementors, and hags are in position, milord," said the Death Eater known as Nott the Elder, "but Greyback seems to have lost control of much of his pack after the latest announcement from the Ministry."

"Pheh, not a significant loss," noted the Dark Lord.

Alecto bowed. "The four companies you divided our Death Eaters into are where you instructed us to send them, My Lord."

At the Dark Lord's nod, Bellatrix Lestrange stood proud. "That which you have asked of me is done, and only awaits your word to proceed."

"Magnificent. Tonight, my Inner Circle, we shall have our own Revel. And then on the morrow, we shall bring the Wizarding World to its knees once and for all!" He smiled, and reached down to stroke the scaled head of his familiar, the mystically mutated serpent Nagini.

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The past few months had been quiet ones at Hogwarts, but tensions began to rise. It was almost as if everyone could feel the storm approaching. Though there was no fighting in the halls, many students jumped at the slightest surprise, or looked around every corner before turning them.

The OGL core group was instrumental in helping keep things calm, mostly by example. They stayed in groups, yes, but also walked around without fear, as if it was yet another school year. Ron's tiger, which he ended up naming Flame, went everywhere with him, and was now almost as big as Ginny.

On the fifteenth of November, the Seventh Year Gryffindors knew something was up when they walked into their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. For one, the room was completely bare, save for the teacher's desk, and a single blue orb on said desk, resting in a crudely carved stone base.

"Wait, don't go in," said Harry, stopping the others in his class. "Something's up. Hermione, can you go get Professor McGonagall? And Parvati, go check Professor Danner's office - but don't go in, just look from outside, and go disillusioned."

As the two girls raced off, Ron leaned over to his best friend. "What do you think's going on, mate?"

"I dunno... but it's suspicious. I don't like it." He pointed at the door. "Colloportus! There, that should keep the others from trying to enter anyway, until we find out what's going on here."

Moments later, the shimmering shape of someone disillusioned came racing towards them, like a ripple in the air of the corridor. Vanishing as the form stopped, Parvati suddenly appeared, out of breath. "No sign of the Professor, Harry, but his whole office is torn up. Files everywhere, and his desk is totally smashed!"

"Right, that's it. Everyone, wands out and keep 'em out. OGL, pair up, and circle the others. Until Hermione gets back with the Headmistress, we assume whatever happened here was hostile, and whoever was behind it is still here." He stepped up next to Ron, and drew his wand, the others mimicking his actions.

It was two tense minutes later that Hermione returned, McGonagall in tow. "What in Merlin's name is going on here, Mr Potter?"

Harry gave her a rundown, then led the students out of the way of the doorway. "There's only an orb on a stone stand in there, Ma'am, on top of Professor Danner's desk."

Students from other years began to show up at other ends of the hallways, keeping their distance but watching with curiosity and no small amount of alarm. "Keep back," noted Harry, "and stay to the walls, we need the halls open just in case."

McGonagall dismissed the locking spell Harry had placed on the door, then looked inside without entering. On seeing the orb, her eyes widened, and she took a step back. "Good Heavens," she breathed. "An Orb of Agrippa!"

This statement was met with many blank looks, but Hermione paled. "Harry... an Orb of Agrippa is a form of soul trap - except it consumes the body and soul of its victim! Only those with a horcrux are immune, or the original master of the orb."

"Can it be used on Voldemort after we kill Nagini?"

"No, not if he's the original master of the orb."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Is there any way to tell if there's anyone currently in it?"

McGonagall nodded, and waved her wand in a complex pattern. To the horror of those present, the orb's surface cleared from a deep blue, and the screaming face of Professor Danner was clearly visible.

"We have to help him!" grumbled Ron, fists clenching and unclenching, even as Flame tried to decide whether to growl or whine.

"His body is forever lost," noted the Headmistress. "But there is a way to preserve his soul, so that he may reach the Afterlife." Jaw clenched, she pointed her wand. "Reducto!"

The orb shattered, and it was as if a hurricane was unleashed in the room. The other desks and the various widgets Professor Danner had decorated the room with came swirling out in a chaotic mess. And finally, on top of the the pile that now surrounded the remains of the orb, lay the body of Professor James Danner.

Out in the hall, Luna and Gabrielle had been among the students to gather and watch what happened, and were too far away to see into the room. They saw the faces of their friends,and knew what must have happened. Then it happened - they both heard the little third year Ravenclaw.

"Now, My Lord," he whispered, then pointed his wand directly at his left eye. "REDUCTO!" he shouted, and then the chaos and horror truly began.

It was grotesque, the young boy had completely obliterated his own head. But before Luna could do little more than conjecture he had been under the Imperius curse, the entire castle shuddered.

Screams filled the halls, and only the strident voice of the Headmistress restored order. "Everyone to your common rooms, unless you are a member of the OGL! If you are, report to the Head Boy and Head Girl immediately. Prefects, see to your house mates! If another common room is closer than your own, go there! Safety is more important than secrecy at this point!"

The magic of Hogwarts allowed her voice to carry through the entire school, and the school itself somehow added an urgency to her words that even her tone could not add. The members of the OGL gathered in the entry way along with the faculty, as members of the Order of the Phoenix began to floo in and step up alongside.

The school shuddered again, and Harry used his connection to Hedwig to see through her frightened eyes. "By Merlin! They have giants just outside the Forbidden Forest, Headmistress - at least twenty by my count. And they're standing just outside the wards, and tossing boulders the size of hippogriffs at the castle walls! They've got us on all four sides, too!"

"This is it, ever'one," rumbled Hagrid. "This is when we get ta finally kick 'is scaly hide, ain't it?"

Voices agreed, even as Harry turned to the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. "Professor, we're missing some of our allies."

"And who would that be? The Aurors and the MLE's are on their way."

Harry frowned slightly, and glancing almost guiltily at Hermione, said simply, "The House Elves. Professor, they've chosen. They want to help defend Hogwarts, too."

Pursing her lips, McGonagall considered how powerful House Elves truly were, and knew they would go a long way to countering the dark creatures under Voldemort's control. "Very well. I hereby give permission to any and all House Elves with ties to Hogwarts to, if they so wish, join with the defenders of Hogwarts in the upcoming battle."

The resulting cascade of apparition noises was as loud as a stampede. Rather than the two hundred or so House Elves they had expected, nearly a thousand of the diminutive creatures suddenly appeared - and most of them seemed, for lack of a better word, feral. One, nearly half again the size of the others and with a nearly human look to his face, stepped up. He wore animal skins around his torso, cut almost like a toga, while a wreath of ivy wound around his brow. "We accept, McGonagall of Hogwarts. We shall fight alongside you, for Hogwarts, and for Harry Potter."

"What in the world?" muttered one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix that Harry didn't recognize.

"The Headmistresses words included all who had ties to Hogwarts, not merely those employed here. We represent those who dwell in the spaces between, beyond mortality yet not outside it. We are the spirit of Hogwarts, itself." The unusual elf bowed, then turned to Harry. "The giants, Dementors, and hags shall be ours. You were willing to risk a very great deal for one of ours that you barely knew, for no other reason than it was right. And once that risk was passed, still did you claim her not as your servant, but as a full member of your family. For that, we shall call you Elf-Friend for all time."

Another calvacade of apparition pops sounded, letting those gathered know that more non-wizards had arrived. But rather than House Elves, it was the Goblins of Gringotts who appeared!"

Ragnok glanced around. "What? We can't have the House Elves fight while we sit back - downright humiliating it'd be, wouldn't it?" The gathered goblins were clearly girded for war, wearing gilt-edged armor and wicked, jagged-edged swords - completely gone was the businesslike demeanor they normally wore, replaced with a fierce hunger for battle. "Besides, Bill Weasley and Harry Potter have consistently impressed us. Hard to do that nowadays, innit?"

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The battle was raging fiercely, the defenders desperate to end it before nightfall, and the rise of the full moon. Whereas the wizards and witches fought with their wands, and the goblins with a combination of magic and their vicious blades, the house Elves fought with misdirection, glamours, and confusion. The giants and the Hags were down, while the Dementors were off chasing phantom morsels.

The Death Eaters, however, seemed to be an unending tide. The defenders knew that most were enthralled, but could do nothing besides grieve a bit at the fate of these faceless wizards, and keep fighting.

Neither Voldemort nor what remained of his Inner Circle had shown yet, and Harry somehow knew they would not until the werewolves changed. He hurled a cutting hex at the wand of a Death Eater to his left, while Remus, beside him, started to shudder. "Harry, I've got to head for cover while I change. I've had my Wolfsbane, so I won't be dangerous, but there's going to be no way for the others to tell the difference between me and any of the other werewolves."

"Go on, fuzzyfather," said Harry with a grin. "I'll take up the slack."

And with the dying of the sun, the air filled with screams and shrieks of agony, as no less than forty of the Death Eaters changed. Forty or more throats raised in a vicious howl, and the defenders began to fall back.

It was the goblins who took the brunt of the charge of the werewolves. They could not be turned, but they were still flesh and blood. They stopped the creatures, but paid a heavy toll - at least five of their number fell for every savage beast. And one last werewolf remained unopposed as the last of the goblins withdrew from the field to regroup - the infamous Fenrir Greyback, oldest and most feared living werewolf. He howled to the sky in his rage, and his madness finally overtook him beyond all hope of ever regaining sanity.

It was a red and black blur that slammed into the much larger monster. Flame, with Ron close behind, snarled and roared even as he traded bite wounds and claw marks with Greyback. But though he was a fierce beast, he was still just a beast, and Greyback was a monster. A final backhand sent the young tiger flying, even as Ron raised his wand. "Lunargentum!"

The spell was one that was developed by the Unspeakables only a few months before, and was one that was considered cruel. A stream of liquid silver, purified by the light of the moon, flowed out. The molten metal slammed into Greyback who yelped then whined in agony as it flowed around him, growing, and finally encasing him in a solid silver cocoon.

"Bravo, child. Too bad you shall not live to celebrate your triumph," hissed a voice from the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, which carried across the raging battle field. And from the shadows stepped Voldemort and his Inner Circle, with Nagini slithering beside him.

Ron stood his ground, however. "You know, for the heir of Slytherin, you really didn't get much besides talking to snakes and a really bad skin condition, eh, mate?"

To Ron's left, Harry stepped up, flanked by Hermione and Ginny. Neville Longbottom stepped up on his right, while the rest of the OGL came up behind them. Harry sneered at Voldemort. "You know it's just you and me in the end, right?"

"I had guessed," admitted Voldemort. "Which, of course, means that I shall win." He smiled a thin, lipless smile. "Now prepare yourself."

Harry nodded, then shouted, "Reducto!"

Voldemort threw up a simple shield, confident he could deflect the paltry spell the boy cast. To his surprise, no spell connected.

"MAASSSSSTTTEEERRRRRR!" hissed Nagini in agony, her parseltongue voice fading rapidly. He glanced to his left, to see that Harry's target had been the snake, who was now little more than a rapidly dying head and neck. He felt the soul-fragment he had placed there die, and a ripple of fear passed through him for the first time in many years.

"There," smirked the Boy Who Lived. "Now it's a fair fight!"

With that, the most important fight of the entire battle began... and the Wizarding World held its breath as the entire future hung in the balance.

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A/N: Okay, sorry for the delay. Anyway, only one chapter left to go, all! 


	54. Chapter 54: The End

Disclaimer: Potter and company aren't mine. Professor Danner is, but he's not important.

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Green eyes stared out at red ones, both hardened with resolve, as Harry faced down Lord Voldemort. The fate of the entire Wizarding World hung on the outcome of this duel, and by unspoken agreement all present paused to watch, and see which way the wind would blow. However, the field was not completely silent.

Here and there, a wounded wizard or witch moaned in pain, as medics swiftly and silently sent them to either St Mungo's or the Crouch Estate, depending on their allegiance. A young tiger, barely more than a cub, whimpered as it tried to stand and rejoin her master. And one man, a mere muggle, whispered a prayer to the wind that his beloved nephew would not just win the duel, but survive to see the light that victory would bring.

"So you knew of my Horcrux. No matter," sneered Voldemort. "There are other measures I have taken..."

"Like Slytherin's Locket?" interrupted Harry. "The Gaunt Ring? Hufflepuff's Cup? Your diary? And the Amulet of the Line? You must not have been paying attention, Moldy Wart. They're all long gone." He smiled. "You're as mortal as anyone else, now. Vulnerable."

For the first time, a glimmer of fear rose in the eyes of the Dark Lord, but he squashed it ruthlessly. "So what?" he snarled. "The only mage who could have possibly bested me is dead, and a mere schoolboy stands before me, as the best hope of the Wizarding World! Do you truly believe you can win?"

"Of course he can," snorted Ron from his position at Harry's flank. "If he couldn't, then why's the prophesy in doubt, eh? Why's it say it comes down to you two, an' not 'The Dork Lord whups up on a schoolboy', eh?"

"Silence!" barked Voldemort, tossing a wordless Cruciatus at Ron. Not expecting it, the Heir of Gryffindor cried out in agony, falling to the ground as spasms of agony wracked his body.

"NO!" Taking the opportunity, Harry launched one of the Auror spells he had learned from Sirius before his Godfather's death. Like Voldemort's spell, it was wordless, and a zig-zagging bolt of blue force ripped the air between the two.

This particular spell was remarkably hard to dodge, as its path could not be predicted on its way to its target, and could only be blocked. "Mare Lapis!" shouted Voldemort, as the water of the Hogwarts Lake flowed in front of him, hardening for a brief moment until it was as solid as stone, then flowed away again once the energy of the spell had dissipated.

The duel had begun. Spells of remarkable power and creativity flashed back and forth, and the combatants ranged across the battlefield. The watchers scattered, to avoid being a casualty of the immense firepower being bandied back and forth. But despite the experience and raw strength of the Dark Lord, the duel remained an inconclusive display of power.

For twenty minutes the battle raged, neither sorcerer giving an inch, and fighting with all they had. As it drew on and on, Voldemort felt his earlier fear begin to rise up, and he shook to know that a mere child could match him in battle - and possibly best him, if he could not end it any sooner. "How are you so strong, boy?" he demanded.

A memory of a ghostly voice erupted through the mind of Voldemort as they locked eyes. "And he shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not... And he shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not... And he shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not... " was repeated over, and over, and over in his thoughts.

"And let's just say I found my power. It's courage, Voldie. Courage and love." Harry tossed another spell, creating a spiderweb pattern of frost on the ground, that the Dark Lord knew would freeze him solid in an instant if he touched the icy strands before they faded. "I know I am loved, and I know those I loved in the past await me should I fall. So I do not fear this fight. I do not fear death." Another spell, this one a spray of flaming acid, doused one sleeve of Voldemort's robe.

"Bah! If you do not fear death, then you will die!" With his new wand, with a core of scales from Nagini herself, flashed three times, sending two lesser spells out, flanking a Killing Curse.

But the Killing Curse was avoided, and the others flicked aside. "You see? You don't understand it. Love, courage, these things are beyond you. You never read anything by Bruce Lee, did you?" A ball of flame erupted towards the Dark Lord, which was dissipated. But he was shocked to see a second spell behind it, a lance of pure force, which ripped through his robes between his feet, and planted itself into the ground.

"Stop this babble and fight, Potter" howled Voldemort, and he ripped his robe to get free of the lance, narrowly ducking a second one that passed through where his head would have been. He felt his heart rate increase, and the icy spike of fear rose even higher.

"Look at you, you're shaking," smirked Harry, firing off another set of spells as he easily evaded a hastily cast Killing Curse. "You're getting sloppy, your aim's off, and you're weakening. I'm right, aren't I? You'd tell me if I was right?"

"Aveunt Terram!" cried the Dark Lord, and the stones of the earth rose up, blocking the path between the two. This gave him time to take stock of his situation, and he quailed even more. He had given ground considerably, and was now being pressed to the very edge of the Forbidden Forest!

"Now, now, now, no fair hiding," chided Harry, who had somehow reached the top of the wall. "Why don't we play like good little boys, eh? Tarrantellegra! Immobilus! Expelliarmus!"

The trio of low-level jinxes annoyed Voldemort, but kept him on the defensive. He had little time to attack, and found his legs beginning to grow weary. And the fear rose even higher.

"Ooh, I didn't know snakes could run so fast, taunted Harry. He wouldn't let it show, but he was growing very tired. "Petrificus Totalis! Percussum! Resoundus!" he yelled.

The second spell was not aimed at Voldemort, but instead at the ground in front of him. In dodging the first and third spells, he stumbled, his foot losing purchase in the small divot placed in his way, and he hit the ground hard.

But any triumph Harry would have would be short-lived, as the wall the Dark Lord had summoned began to crumble. He slid awkwardly down as the rocks and clay tumbled into a small mound, and came to his feet just as his foe was reaching his. Both took half a moment to regain their breath, warily eying each other as they waited for the fighting to begin anew.

By this time, the wounded had left the field, and Ron had made his way back to his little cub. And for the first time since the battle began, silence reigned over the grounds of the mighty school.

Drawing himself to his full height, Voldemort glared down at the stripling who would dare challenge him so, but was met with an irritating smirk. "I must give credit where credit is due, boy. No other wizard... alive... could have fought me so. But... it is not enough!" He stepped closer, wand out to the side but ready just in case.

"And why do you say that?" asked harry, wand in a similar position.

"I am more than a mere wizard, harry," smirked the undead liche. "I am Lord Voldemort! And I am immortal!" His eyes were now crazed, as what little of him that remained snapped. He drew a wickedly curved dagger, and lunged at his nemesis.

With his Seeker's reflexes, Harry snatched at the weapon, grabbing it by the blade. Biting back a cry of pain, he clutched at Voldemort's wrist with his other hand, dropping his wand to the ground. "Resorting to muggle means?" he taunted through gritted teeth.

Harry may have been in excellent shape, and much younger, but the Dark Lord had the strength of the insane, and pushed the dagger closer and closer to Harry's chest. "Whatever works, Potter!" he cackled. "This is no ordinary dagger! Whatever wound it makes will continue to bleed, until you've been bled dry! You will grow weaker and weaker, until you die!"

The wound in his palm wasn't deep, but the power of suggestion was strong in the Dark Lord's words, and Harry fell back a step. "Magic dagger, eh?" he muttered. "Guess I'll have to trump that!" He suddenly stepped to the side, and let go of his enemy's wrist, which sent Voldemort tumbling to the ground. "Shame you didn't fall on it, eh?"

Springing back to his feet with remarkable alacrity, Voldemort snarled. "We are both without wands," he sneered, "yet I am armed and you are not!"

"Harry!" came Ron's voice, and a flashing glint caught his eye. His hand reached out, and a vaguely familiar leather-wrapped grip met his wounded palm with a meaty thunk. He knew what it was, because his friend had borne it onto the field as was his birthright. It was the Sword of Gryffindor, and the surprisingly light broadsword nearly glowed in the moonlight.

"Looks like I'm the one with the advantage now, Tom," he smirked, and dropped into one of the offensive stances Sirius had shown him a few years ago. It was intended for use along with a shield, but Harry figured that since his opponent only had a dagger, the need for a shield wasn't as great.

Three quick strikes, and Voldemort found himself hard pressed as he brought the dagger up to block them. The blade lay flat against his forearm, and every stroke jarred his shoulder with the magically augmented force of the ancient weapon. "Damn you, Potter! Damn you to Hell!" he hissed.

"No thank you, Tom," jeered Harry. "I wouldn't want to give you the company." He fought like a man possessed, the blade's own power more than matching the advantage Voldemort's madness gave him, and his reckless assault keeping the Dark Lord off-balance. "If I do leave this life today, it will be to rejoin those I love."

Another vicious swipe ripped Voldemort's robe, and he growled and stepped in close, inside the reach of the longer blade. Now Harry found himself hard pressed, using the crossguard and the first few inches of the mighty sword to try and deflect the vicious dagger that sought his life's blood. "Die, damn you, die!"

The light of the moon glistened off a sheen of sweat on Harry's brow, and he felt a sliver of his own fear begin to rise. He was weakening as it is, the power of the Sword of Gryffindor the only thing that possibly kept him upright. Its hilt seemed to absorb the blood from his wounded hand and thus not grow slick, but he was not sure how much longer he could last... and if he did last long enough to stop Voldemort, if he would last much longer beyond him.

A flash of red in the corner of his eye caught his attention, so he curved slightly to the left as he fell back before Voldemort's assault. Over the Dark Lord's shoulder, he saw the Weasley twins sneaking around behind the awestruck Death Eaters, and planting various things at their feet. Smiling at their antics, and knowing that whatever it was would likely go off when his own battle was done, he found himself actually growing stronger. Some of the strength came from the sword, but some actually came from deep within.

A twist of his wrist, and he locked the hilt of the sword with Voldemort's dagger. Shoving up close,and braving the Dark Lord's foetid breath, he grinned. "Had enough fun, Tommy boy? Because I think it's time I stopped playing around."

He thought of Mrs Weasley, and Bill, and Charlie, and Mr Weasley, and Percy. All of them fighting for the light and for what was right in their own way. A stroke fell from his shoulder to hook around and swing up at Voldemort from beneath, which was hastily dodged. He thought of Tonks and Remus, taking a chance at love during even the darkest times. His blade whistled through the air only to be met just in time by his enemy's blade. He thought of Headmistress McGonagall and Hagrid and Professor Flitwick, finding their life's joy in passing on what they knew to each new generation. Another stroke narrowly missed. Then he thought of his own Order, of Fleur and Cedric, Parvati, Gabrielle, Cho, and poor Viktor. Lashing out from the side, he suddenly dipped the blade and cut under Voldemort's dagger, turning into a thrust that scored across the dark wizard's opposite shoulder. "Ahah, you can bleed, after all," he crowed.

Voldemort's only reply was an inarticulate howl of rage as he lunged at Harry. But the younger man was ready, and sidestepped, narrowly missing with a slice of his own. "Getting even clumsier, are you?"

Harry then brought out the 'big guns'. He thought of Ron and Hermione, always bickering but thick as thieves, and the brother and sister he never had. A sudden down stroke bit into Voldemort's thigh, and nearly knocking him to the ground. He thought of Sirius, and his pranks and jokes, as well as the long talks they'd have late at night, both before and after he died. A thrust ripped through Voldemort's other thigh, dropping him to his knees. He thought of Ginny, and the love they shared that, though still young, was more than enough to last them the rest of their lives. A powerful blow slammed into the dagger the Dark Lord had feebly raised to defend himself with, and shattered the blade, the impact breaking the arm that had held it.

Wheezing with pain and eyes filled with terror, Voldemort pleaded, "M-mercy! I beg of you, mercy!"

Harry paused, and regarded Voldemort. His good arm steadied himself as he swayed, blood flowing freely from his legs, while his broken arm hung limply at his side. Curled up in pain and fear, he looked less like a dreaded Dark Lord, and more like a ragged beggar, pleading for coins on a shabby street corner. "You ask for mercy?" he asked incredulously.

"Y-yes! Mercy, please, please!"

Disgusted murmurs rapidly flowed through the Death Eaters and their allies, and many turned their backs in revulsion. But others saw what their fellows did not, as Voldemort used his good hand to slowly draw a back-up wand, scarcely four inches long, from the holster on his wounded calf, and they grinned evilly.

"I grant you mercy," admitted Harry, as he stretched to his full height. He thought of his mother and his father, and his aunt and his uncle. His heart swelled to bursting and the Sword of Gryffindor rose high. "I grant you the mercy the Ministry would not. Death, instead of the Dementor's Kiss!" A flash of silver caught the eye of all who watched,as the useless backup wand tumbled from nerveless fingers. A splash of red, and a muffled thump, and then all grew silent.

The wind whispered past the defenders of Hogwarts, as they stared at the standing form of their savior and champion, triumphant at last. Bill leaned over to his brothers, who had just walked up to him from wherever they had been, and whispered, "Be ready - even without Voldemort, the Death Eaters will not go down without a fight!"

"Death Eaters?" asked Fred with an evil grin. He then pulled out a small box with a big red button on it,and pushed the button.

Smoke bamfed through the battlefield, and rapidly blew away, as George added, "No Death Eaters, brother mine. Nobody here but us chickens!"

Harry stared at the befeathered dark wizards, and laughed and laughed. The Sword of Gryffindor slowly fell from his hand, and as he laughed, he toppled over into sweet oblivion.

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"Mum, mum, his eyes are fluttering! I think he's waking up!"

"Jus' five more minutes, Aunt Petunia..." muttered Harry.

Slowly the room around Harry became visible, as he realized he was in a room, to begin with. And it was one he was intimately familiar with - the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. The last thing he remembered was feathered Death Eaters, so he assumed he had passed out from blood loss. Looking around, and he saw the reason he had been able to win.

Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley were on one side of his bed, and it had been Dudley who had spoken. Behind hem were Remus and Tonks; the werewolf did not look as haggard as he normally did after a full moon, so Harry wondered how long he had been unconscious. On the other side of the bed were Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, with eyes that danced with pride, relief, and a hint of exhaustion; he also saw a black and orange form peer out from behind them as Flame looked to see what was going on. And beyond them, he saw several sleeping forms, including the rest of the Weasleys and the OGL. Only Percy was missing, but Harry assumed the middle son was very busy right now.

"Alright, you lot, clear the way, I must see my patient!" called out a strident voice. Seconds later, the Dursleys stepped to one side and Remus and Tonks to the other, as Madame Pomfrey stepped up close. "Good morning, Mr Potter," she said crisply as she passed her wand over him. "Gave us quite a scare, you did. Used up almost my entire supply of blood replenishment potions before we got that hand of yours closed up. You've been out for nearly three weeks, since then."

Ginny beamed at him. "You did it, Harry. You really did it."

"No, Ginny. We all did it," he said, before being told to open his mouth as the nurse stuck her wand there. After she hemmed and hawed and removed her wand, he grinned. "Whenever I thought of you guys, I started getting stronger and stronger."

"Just like you told him," said Ron. "Courage and love, eh?"

"That, and a nice helping of your family sword, you know," chuckled Harry back. "So what happened after I passed out?"

Ginny giggled. "Gred and Forge had put spellbombs at the feet of the Death Eaters, loaded with the potion they used in their Canary Cremes. Right after you sent snake-face to his just reward, POOF! They all turned into canaries!"

"Chickens, actually," came the slightly mumbled voice of one of the twins from the corner, as he sat up. "Just replaced the canary toenail shavings with shavings from the hens from our hen house."

"Whatever," said Ginny, as she rolled her eyes. "Anyway, this stunned them long enough that we were able to get them all tied up."

"What about the enthralled wizards? The ones who weren't there by choice? How did you tell the difference once they took them all away?"

Hermione bounced slightly. "Professor Flitwick found a really old charm that detects the Imperius, Harry. It doesn't work on someone awake and conscious, but it does on a sleeping subject. We merely put them all to sleep, and he started sorting them as to Dark and Enthralled." She looked slightly up and to the left, as she remembered it. "It had some rather complex wand-work, and the incant was no less than fifteen syllables. But it's been distributed to the Aurors and the MLE's, and they're using it to weed out any victims over at the Ministry."

Harry smiled, and felt his eyes droop. "That's wonderful." He then yawned.

"Alright, all you lot back off," barked Madame Pomfrey. "He needs his rest..." and the rest faded as Harry drifted off to sleep.

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EPILOGUE

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It took Harry five weeks to fully recover, two of them after he finally regained consciousness. By this time it was graduation, and nobody was surprised that Hermione was at the top of the class. However, they were surprised to find Ron graduating in the top ten percent. All those who fought in the final battle were given awards for 'Special Service to the School', and the plethora of House points put all four houses into four digits for the first time in four hundred and thirty-seven years.

During the battle, Neville had ended up facing his parents' nemesis, and actually managed to take out Bellatrix LeStrange by enchanting the grass to grab her feet so she could no longer dodge. The OGL had accounted for numerous captures and casualties on the Death Eaters, while the Order of the Phoenix had fought like heroes. Unfortunately there were losses, though not nearly as many as there would have been without the goblins or the elves. Almost the entire number of both groups earned the Order of Merlin Third Class, with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, along with McGonagall, Hagrid, and a few other members of the Order of the Phoenix earning Second Class.

Cornelius Fudge announced a day of celebration, and gave the leader of the Elves, as well as Ragnok, the Order of Merlin, First Class - the first tie an Order of Merlin had ever been awarded to anyone who was not at least part human. Harry, as well, received that prestigious award, though he didn't find out until after his eighteenth birthday.

It was a week after his eighteenth birthday that tragedy struck. The Dursleys, Harry, Remus, Tonks, Hermione, and the Weasleys were gathered in London for a big night on the town, celebrating the dual proposals of Harry to Ginny,and Ron to Hermione. They had no sooner walked out of King's Cross station, when a voice called out, "Death to he who sheltered the blood traitor!", and a sickly green beam struck Vernon Dursley square in the chest. The gathered witches and wizards quickly found and made short work of the wannabe Death Eater who had done the deed, turning his rather misshapen and unconscious form over to the Aurors.

The funeral was grand, though not quite so large as Dumbledore's. The Queen, herself, put in an appearance, and it was revealed that he would be laid to rest with other heroes of the Crown, in Westminster Abbey. This time Fudge did not balk, and awarded him a posthumous Order of Merlin for his part in teaching, protecting, and raising Harry, as well as his own deeds in the years that had passed. And in his eulogy, Harry proclaimed that he had never known a better man than Vernon Dursley.

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No fear. No doubt. Joy, hope, peace, and love filled him, and he knew comfort beyond what he had ever known. Vernon Dursley looked around, and saw he was in a beautiful meadow dotted with trees, with men and women in their twenties and younger wandering around in pairs, groups, and more. "Is this..." he wondered.

"Indeed, Vernon," came a dry yet warm voice behind him. "You are exactly where you believe you are."

"Severus! Then are James and Lily..."

"And where else would we be?" James Potter came into view, one arm over the shoulders of his red-headed wife. "Vernon - you have absolutely no idea how proud of you we are... and how grateful."

Lily stepped over and hugged him fiercely. "Thank you," she said, tears of joy dripping onto his shoulder. "Without you, I shudder to think what would have happened to Harry."

"Yeah, good job, Vern," called a fourth voice. To his shock, the burly form of his Uncle Matthias ambled from around a copse of trees. "You really took what I tried to teach you all those years to heart, didn't you?"

"Indeed," came another voice, this one belonging to Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. "A true nobleman you were, and a definite Gryffindor - had you been a wizard, of course."

A final form faded into view, this one of a tall young man with auburn hair and beard, wearing light summer robes of brilliant colors. "Welcome to Paradise, Vernon. The battle is done, and your charges are both fine young men of great courage and great character," said the legendary Albus Dumbledore.

And for more than a century and a half, they and others looked down as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny lived their lives and brought many wondrous things into the world, not the least of which was their own children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and so on. After seventy of those years, they were joined by Arthur and Molly Weasley, with Remus following along ten years later, and surprisingly Tonks not a month after that. Their lives were not perfect,and not without pain, but they, and the rest of the Wizarding World, were at peace.

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Finis

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A/N: There it is- the final chapter of A Better Man. No,I don't plan on a sequel, but when my schedule lets up a bit I plan on re-writing the whole thing, to expand certain scenes, correct spelling and grammar mistakes, and the like. Enjoy! 


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